The Force Unleashed III

by Mugatu

The final chapter of the Force Unleashed trilogy begins! Horrific visions of the future threaten to plunge Starkiller into the abyss. With the life of Juno Eclipse hanging in the balance, he begins a galaxy-wide hunt for the Chosen One, who sought the secret of eternal life. But there is another clone - the Dark Apprentice, who may prove a more sinister enemy than Vader himself.

28. Chapter 28: TFU - Balance

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. This is merely a fanfiction. I gain no income from this story.

Author's Note: Here it is – the final chapter! Thank you so much to my loyal readers and reviewers! I appreciate each and every one of you! Thank you to all of those who stuck with this story, even when it looked like I would never finish it! And now … let the end begin …!

~0~

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~0~

"Take the greatest Jedi Knight, strip away the Force, and what remains? They rely on it, depend on it, more than they know. Watch as one tries to hold a blaster, as they try to hold a lightsaber, and you will see nothing more than a woman – or a man. A child."

~0~

"If you are to truly understand, then you will need the contrast, not adherence to a single idea …"

~0~

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"Incoming! Twenty degrees!"

"My scope's negative!"

"They're jamming us! Pick up your visual scanners!"

"I can't see - !"

An explosion. Static.

Ship by ship, starfighter by starfighter, the Rebel forces were being picked apart one by one.

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"Green Group – reroute all forces to holding sector G-7!"

"It won't be enough –"

More static. Bail Organa hung his head. He stared out his viewscreen. A Mandalorian cruiser in the distance was consumed in flame. Another was taking hits from several Imperial Star Destroyers. As for his own forces –

"We can't maintain our position much longer." An aide – Captain Antilles - stood beside Organa. Behind them, on the bridge of his ship, several Rebel officers sat at computers, analyzing the battle. The aide pressed his insistence. "We're overrun. We can't go toe to toe against both the Empire and the Mandalorians. We have to order a retreat."

Bail's fingers curled on a console. He was staring ahead at the planet in the distance. "We can't leave him … we lost him once before …"

A flaming X-Wing careened out control past their field of vision. Three TIE fighters roared past, spitting bolts of green plasma. The Rebel pilot screamed, before his ship disappeared in a fireball.

Captain Antilles continued pressing. "Is the life of one man really worth sacrificing our forces for?"

"We have to maintain hope -."

Antilles pointed at the battling armadas. "Once those Star Destroyers are done with the Mandalorians, they'll be turning their full force on us! We have yet to win a single victory against the Empire – we're outgunned and outmatched!"

"Don't you understand, we can't leave him?!" Bail had turned, his anger boiling over.

"Our people are out there dying! How much are you willing to sacrifice for one man?! The Rebellion?!"

"Starkiller will pull through! I know it!"

"Like he did on the Death Star?"

Bail closed his eyes, turning away. "We left him to die there …" His eyes shot open. "I will not make the same mistake twice!"

"Then you bring the end of the Rebellion down on our heads."

The captain walked off to deliver orders to another officer. Bail returned to his staring. Outside, a Rebel Blockade Runner was turned into slag – caught in the crossfire between the Mandalorian and Imperial Fleets.

And when Bail spoke this time, it was a whispered prayer. "You've got to pull through this time … you have to!"

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In the midst of the space battle, through the heat of the explosions and slag, through the screams of pilots and crewman, none saw a tiny hatch under the Mandalorian flagship slide open. Neither Bail, nor the Rebels nor the Imperials, saw a tiny starfighter shoot from the bottom of the ship's hull. A jet of flame – like a candle – issued from its engines and it streaked towards the surface of Mortis.

The small fighter – like a comet – tore through the atmosphere of the planet. Night was falling.

Thunk!

The fighter crashed on the rocky mountain range – just outside of the temple of Mortis. It stood erect, its bottom lodged into the rock. A red light flashed repeatedly. And inside … inside, lying in stasis, was a tube filled with bacta. And floating in the bacta tank onboard this starfighter, waiting to strike … was a body …

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Darth Vader stood, ashamed. Flashes of blue, red and orange reverberated off his dented and charred helmet, explosions of light flashing off his visor. His breathing was weakened and ragged. Plagueis had been too much for the dark titan … he was ashamed that he was beaten so brutally, defeated by the Sith Lord so completely … but what he was seeing before him …

Sidious and Plagueis were going toe to toe. As equals. Pockmarks of red flashed with lightning speed as their Sith lightsabers clashed violently. Sparks rained down on them. Plagueis' face was solemn, determined. Sidious, on the other hand, was cackling, reveling in the duel, relishing it.

And to the side, Maris and Pooja stood horrified, Stormtroopers leveling their blasters at their heads.

Plagueis skidded backwards. He spun his red blade, narrowing his eyes.

Palpatine spread his arms out like a bat, his twisted features gleeful. "Your power fades, my old master … I can feel you slipping … you are but a shell of what you once were."

"Your senses must not be as attuned as they once were," spat Plagueis, "to think that my power is faded. Your overconfidence will be your downfall." His hand spasmed out, his fingers clenched. "I never could teach you proper humility!"

A pulse in the Force ripped across the room. Palpatine laughed as he flung his cloak, wrapping himself in a mantle of Force energy. He waved his arms, Plagueis' attack wrapping around his body like water. With a flick of his arms, his master's energy was redirected back at him. Plagueis grounded himself, deflecting his own attack. He looked up and sneered –

Palpatine was in front of him, his blade a scarlet blur as he forced his old master back. As Plagueis parried, he couldn't help but smile.

Yes, your overconfidence will be your downfall my old apprentice.

Darth Plagueis still had one card left to play, one final act of cunning. His ace in the hole.

In reality, it mattered little to Plagueis whether he or Palpatine remained standing. Plagueis' death would mean the death of them all …

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"Juno! I'm sorry! I thought he was trying to harm you!"

Starkiller, nursing his severed and cauterized wrist, stared down into the Wellspring of the Force. His "brother" the Dark Apprentice – the real Galen Marek – had just vanished into its gaping maw.

"I didn't mean to – Juno?!"

Juno swayed and collapsed onto the floor. Her arm was limp.

"JUNO!"

Ignoring the agony of his severed hand, Starkiller raced to her side, skidding down, skimming his knees on the hard floor. He held her head up with his remaining hand, staring down at her closed eyes. Tears streaked down his bloody and dirt-covered cheeks. Thoughts and memories swirled around him. He had visions of her lying, lifeless on Kamino as rain whipped down around them …

~0~

"Your feelings for her are not real."

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"They are real to ME!"

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A cold, icy tendril had gripped the young clone's insides. The same cold, clammy feeling he had felt that day on the landing platform of the cloning facility. He closed his eyes. Tears dripped from his cheeks onto Juno's face.

The virus had finally taken its toll. Everything he had fought for, every step on this journey – had been for nothing. He pressed his forehead to hers.

"Juno …"

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"Wake up."

A voice reverberated through his skull. The Dark Apprentice – no, Galen Marek – the real Galen Marek – sat up. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was a blue blade burning away his insides and falling into a deep, dark abyss.

The Dark Apprentice – damn it, no! Galen Marek. Galen Marek slowly rose to his feet. He looked down at his belly, expecting a hole – nothing! His stomach was smooth, covered in a dark tunic. His head swiveled left to right, taking in his surroundings. He was … nowhere? An eternal void of white stretched around him. Endless white as far as the eye could see.

But he was not alone.

"Good. You've awoken."

A black figure had materialized in the distance. It was hooded and cloaked and walking with purpose – towards him.

"Where am I?" Galen demanded.

"That's not important. What's important is that you have finally awoken."

"Finally? I feel like I was only unconscious for a moment."

The figure reached him. "That's not what I meant ..."

"Then what do you mean?"

"That the Dark Apprentice is no more. That Galen Marek has finally returned."

Galen stared at the hooded figure. There was something familiar about him. "Who are you?"

The figure reached up with a hand – a robotic hand – and pulled back the hood, revealing a youthful face with wavy hair. A long scar lined his eye. "You know me as Darth Vader. But the name of my true self – is Anakin Skywalker."

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Maris Brood and Pooja watched as Force Lightning arced around them, a captive audience to the titanic struggle between two Sith Lords. And to Maris, they seemed evenly matched. Hopefully they would destroy each other. But that would still leave Vader … however, Vader still seemed tired and broken from his duel with Plagueis. Maybe they would have a chance …

No, if they were going to make a move, they couldn't wait for Sidious and Plagueis to destroy each other. They would have to act now. Maris gently touched Pooja's hand.

"When I say go, we make a break for it. I can phase over there, take out the guards –"

"What about the Emperor and Plagueis?" Pooja whispered back.

"We'll have to hope they don't see -."

"Vader will."

"Maybe."

More lightning whipped around them.

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"What the heck do you mean you're 'Anakin Skywalker'?!"

Galen Marek was sputtering – but there was no mistaking the young Jedi standing before him. Anakin simply smirked. Starkiller clenched his fist. "Are you a ghost?"

"A ghost implies I died," Anakin replied. "Though from a certain point of view, that may be true." He stepped past the utterly bewildered Galen. "No, I am not dead. Not a ghost … just … trace memories …"

"A Force echo," Galen breathed.

Anakin nodded. "When some places are touched by particularly powerful Force users, it leaves echoes of that individual … traces that can manifest … not a Force ghost … more like a … memory … Mortis is such a place. It remembers me from when I walked its surface so long ago."

Behind him, Galen clenched his fist. "You … "

Anakin turned, crossing his arms into the folds of his robes. He cocked his head, waiting for the inevitable finger-pointing.

"You ruined my life!" Galen could feel his fury building. "You killed my father! You stole me away as a child, fashioned me into a tool, a weapon!" He was stepping for him. "You tried to kill me! You cloned me, and when he wasn't what you wanted him to be, you tried to kill him too! And Juno! And Kohta and all of them -."

"Are you done venting?"

Galen stared coldly into his eyes. "If I could, I would destroy you where you stand!"

"I think my real self did a good job of destroying me already. And yet – you and I are not so different."

"I'm nothing like you," spat Marek.

"No?" Anakin turned. As he did, their surroundings seemed to melt, to blur. Colors appeared and began to swirl as their surroundings changed. Galen found himself surrounded by gold and yellows, with two beating hot suns.

He saw a boy – no older than he was when he was taken by Vader. The boy toiled in the hot sun. Berated by Watto.

"You and I had similar childhoods. We were both slaves to taskmasters –"

"Did your master torture every inch of your body, make you into a weapon of hate?" The venom was clear in Galen's voice.

"My master put a bomb in my body and in the body of my mother," Anakin replied, staring at his young self. "He made me do whatever he said. He threatened to blow my mother up if I didn't."

Galen stared at the young Anakin.

"But then – you and I have had similar mentors, haven't we?"

Galen found himself and the adult Anakin in Watto's shop. He saw Qui-Gon Jinn enter, followed by a Gungan.

Anakin pointed at the door. "And with him, he brought one bright spot. A glimmer of light that I held onto for my entire life." Fourteen-year-old Padme Amidala appeared behind the two, followed by a blue astromech droid. "One beautiful thing I held onto – just like you."

Galen turned – he was standing on the Death Star, kissing Juno. He saw himself fall backwards away from her into the abyss.

Anakin was walking now, their surroundings morphing around them, building up an old tent. Sand People. Galen stood next to Anakin as he saw a younger version of the Jedi holding Shmi Skywalker. "Mom … stay with me Mom …"

"What is this supposed to prove?" Galen demanded. "I'm supposed to feel sorry for you?! That because you had a tragic life, it somehow excuses everything you've done?!"

"I don't want sympathy or excuses," Anakin answered. "Only for you to understand …"

"Understand what?"

"That your life – and mine – are intertwined. That despite our differences – we are the same …!"

"I'm nothing like you!"

Anakin touched Galen's forehead. Galen screamed, visions swimming. A dream – Padme screaming out for Anakin. He looked up – they were in an office on Coruscant. Chancellor Palpatine – Darth Sidious – was encircling them.

"Learn the power of the dark side and you will be able to save your wife … from certain death …"

"I already know this!" Galen yelled.

"Then you know what I did!" Anakin shot back.

They were on a landing platform on Mustafar, surrounded by flames. Padme was begging, pleading with Anakin. "Come back! Please! I love you!"

"Liar! You're with him! You brought him here to kill me!"

Starkiller watched in horror as another Anakin stepped forward, reaching out, Force choking her. He looked into Padme's eyes as her hands went to her throat.

"Anakin … please …"

The vision swirled away and when Starkiller turned to look at Anakin, he could see tears in his eyes. "I became the very thing I swore to destroy … and I destroyed the very one I swore to save …"

"That doesn't mean we're anything alike –"

"Then why did you come here to Mortis?" Anakin asked.

"Because – I wanted – I thought I wanted its power –"

"To save Juno. Plagueis wanted its power to dominate, to rule – but you had your own agenda. To save Juno. Because a part of you remembered your past life … your identity as the Dark Apprentice did not completely consume who you were deep down … and if that's true for you … then why not for me …?"

"You wanted to find Plagueis to bring Padme back …"

When Galen looked up, they were on a Star Destroyer, in Vader's private quarters. The Dark Lord was in his suit, but his mask and helmet were off, exposing a burnt, bald skull. His head was down, a black glove to his forehead. And he was staring at a holoimage of Padme as queen. Galen turned to look at Anakin who again had tears in his eyes. "What I did will haunt me for the rest of my life. Despite what my true self wants to believe, nothing can ever bring her back to me. And I'll live alone for the rest of my life …"

They were on Naboo. Watching a casket bearing Padme's remains. Her body had been prepared in such a way that she still appeared pregnant.

"Obi-Wan and Master Yoda wanted me to believe my child died with her. And I did believe it … for years I mourned her and my son. It was all so … unnecessary … but the mourning for a child never fades … nor do the instincts of a father …"

The two of them were walking through a wooden hut. They saw a red lightsaber fly – into the hands of a boy. Darth Vader was there, perplexed. "A child?"

They watched, Galen reliving his memories, as Darth Vader summoned his lightsaber and cut down all his Stormtroopers, the child Galen watching in awe and fear.

"I took you for my own," Anakin said. "I convinced myself that it was to overthrow the Emperor, to have a Secret Apprentice to help topple my master. But that wasn't it … I lost my Son on Mustafar … so I took a surrogate …"

Galen wouldn't believe it. "This is all a trick. Set up by Vader or -."

"Haven't you wondered why it was I couldn't bring myself to kill you?" Anakin asked. "All those times I could have. On the Death Star. And then when I tried to create the perfect, obedient clone … I was trying to create a perfect son. And you – I reprogrammed your mind, led you to think you were a clone. Fashioned you into my perfect apprentice. You don't understand – I didn't even understand. I needed you … a father's longing for a son. From a certain point of view of course …"

"You never treated me as a son," Galen spat.

"No. The exterior shell of Darth Vader could never let me be a father to you. But the inner core of Anakin – remained. Kept me from killing you. Allowed me to show you small mercies."

They were on a snow planet, when Galen had first met with Bail Organa, Mon Mothma and the leaders of the newly founded Rebellion. He saw himself on the edge of a cliff, facing Vader. PROXY had jumped in, distracting the Dark Lord. And Galen plummeted from the edge. He watched Vader standing at the edge, staring down. He could finish Galen any time he wanted. Instead of checking further to make sure Galen was dead, Vader turned and simply walked away.

"And what's point of all this?" Galen demanded.

"The point? You were the Dark Apprentice. Yet your true self remained buried under the shell of darkness. Now tell me – is there any part of Anakin Skywalker left inside Darth Vader?"

"No offense," Galen muttered, "but if you think you're redeemable –"

"So you've given up on the Prophecy?" Anakin asked.

"The Chosen One? My clone – Starkiller – believed it. He believed only a Grey Jedi – one who rejected the teachings of both the Jedi and Sith – could bring balance. Sorry Vader. All I see in you is darkness!"

"Then that is what blinds you," Anakin replied. He waved his arm and once again their surroundings morphed together.

They were on Tatooine again. Galen didn't understand how he could feel the burning heat of the twin suns. And then, a leg stomped into a dune. He looked up – a youth, no older than eighteen with sandy blonde hair in a white tunic, was walking from a homestead towards a Jawa sandcrawler. Lined up outside were an array of broken-down droids. A golden protocol droid would not shut up for the life of him. And he recognized a blue astromech droid. An older man was negotiating with the lead Jawa.

"Luke," the older man was saying, "take these two over to the garage, will ya? I want them cleaned up before midday."

"But I was going to the Toche Station to pick up some power convertors."

Something in his whiney tone struck a chord in Galen, reminding him of Anakin. Now that he thought about it, there was a resemblance. No, it couldn't be … could it …?

"The future," Anakin breathed and he was staring at the youth named Luke with longing. "Or – one possible future. As Master Yoda frequently said, the future is always in motion. This – this is one possibility – out of millions. And a longshot."

"Your son," Galen whispered –

"- survived," Anakin finished.

The revelation hit Galen like a ton of bricks. "He's the one – the one Obi-Wan is watching out for. The one he believes can destroy the Sith!"

The vision changed before them. He saw the blue astromech droid project an image – a young woman he recognized from Kashyyyk. Bail Organa's daughter! "Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."

More visions surrounded them. He saw Luke on the Death Star with a smug Correllian and a Wookie – and again the Princess. They were watching a lightsaber duel – Vader versus Obi-Wan. Galen could only hold down his anger as he saw Vader cut the old man down – but there was something in the old man's face that told him that this is what he wanted. And he watched as Obi-Wan's empty cloak fluttered to the ground – vanished.

Now Luke was piloting an X-Wing down the Death Star's trench. Darth Vader was right behind him. There were explosions – Vader's fighter went spinning off into space as a Corellian freighter flew overhead. Luke trusted his instincts, let himself be guided by the Living Force as he launched his proton torpedoes. With direct precision, he saw them enter a thermal exhaust port. And Galen watched, breathless, as the Death Star – the very place he first lost Juno and himself – vanished into a supernova.

Luke would be the one to destroy the Death Star? But did that mean -

Luke was on an ice planet, dangling from a tow cable under an Imperial Walker. He cut a hole with his lightsaber, throwing a grenade inside and dropping down. The Walker's head exploded. He was on Dagobah, training under Yoda. Back on Tatooine, wielding a green lightsaber and dueling Boba Fett, cutting down various thugs on skiffs like butter.

"This is the solution," Galen breathed.

His brow furrowed – another Death Star. Half completed. A throne room onboard. He saw Luke, standing defiantly over a defeated Darth Vader. He turned to face Emperor Palpatine. "Never. I'll never turn to the Dark Side. You failed, Your Highness. I am a Jedi. Like my father before me."

Sidious' face was twisted in a mask of rage. "So be it. Jedi."

Galen watched as Luke and the Emperor stared each other down, ready for the final battle.

"This is it, isn't it?" Galen asked Anakin. "They were wrong. You weren't the Chosen One. Luke is! Your Son."

"Is he?" Anakin asked.

They turned – Luke was blasted back onto the floor, Force Lightning twisting from the Emperor's gnarled fingers, channeling through Luke's extremities. Darth Vader stood like a wounded animal, returning his master's side. And there he stood, his mask expressionless, at Sidious' side, watching, flashes of blue lights reflecting off his mask as he stared down at his helpless son.

"Father please – help me!"

Galen watched in horror next to Anakin. He turned to the Jedi next to him. "What are you doing? Help him!"

Anakin didn't answer. He watched Vader instead. And the Dark Lord made no move, showed no sign of concern.

"That is your Son! You can't just let him die!"

"Watch," admonished Anakin.

Galen returned his gaze to the horrific spectacle. And suddenly – Vader launched into action. He grabbed the Emperor from behind, the withered Sith Lord's Force Lightning shooting out in all directions, into Vader. He could see the disfigured skull behind Vader's mask, but feel the change as well. Anakin had returned. And with a final surge of his once mighty strength, Vader hurled the Emperor over the edge of a railing into the abyss of an elevator shaft. Sidious' body expelled all of his dark side energy, sending waves of blue power coursing up from the shaft. And Luke grabbed his father, pulling him away from the abyss.

As the final vision faded away, Galen once again found himself surrounded by white on all sides. He stood, staring at Anakin in newfound awe. "You. You are the Chosen One … you will be the one to destroy the Sith!"

"Maybe," Anakin replied. "This is only one future. One out of millions. The future is always in motion. There are other futures that I've seen – where I just stand there and watch him kill my son. Other futures, where Luke fails from the beginning, misses his mark, fails to destroy the Death Star and is destroyed in turn over its surface. But as long as Luke survives – there will always be hope for the future we saw."

"Then what is my role in all this?" Galen asked. "If you and Luke are the ones who can destroy the Emperor, what does that say about me?"

"You … are the essential building block to that future," answered Anakin.

"What do you mean?"

"You – in small part – awoke a tiny fragment of Anakin Skywalker that still resides within Darth Vader. I still exist – a part of him. His paternal instincts were stirred when he first found you as a child and though he will never admit it to himself – you reawakened his desire to be a father. That – that was the first step to the future you saw."

"But Plagueis still remains –"

"The final piece of your destiny," Anakin answered. "You – every one of us – has a role in the final destruction of the Sith. Palpatine may not be yours to destroy – but Plagueis is one final obstacle to be removed. And if you fail to destroy him –"

"He'll destroy us all …"

"And the future that you saw will never be."

Anakin stepped forward. He placed his hand on Galen's shoulder. "This is your battle – your final battle. And I sense – you will come into conflict once more with Darth Vader. And when you do – remember me. Remember the Anakin still inside of him, buried deep within his hate. Appeal to that. And in the midst of your anger towards me … I beg of you – find some small measure of forgiveness towards me …"

And Anakin pulled Galen – his surrogate son – into his arms.

"We're luminous beings," Anakin whispered. "Not this crude matter."

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Starkiller – the clone – was still holding Juno's body, pressing his head into hers. For him, only a few seconds had passed.

A hand appeared from the pit at the center of the temple. And Galen Marek – the redeemed Dark Apprentice – ascended out of the Wellspring of the Force …

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At the same time …

Sidious pressed his advantage. His sword connected with Plagueis', and the two Dark Lords stared at each other through crossed sabers. "Yessss," hissed the Emperor. "I can feel your power slipping. With each passing moment you diminish more and more, my Master."

Plagueis pressed back. "As always, your arrogance blinds you."

Across the room, Darth Vader stood there, draped in his cape, a solemn sentinel watching the duel. His head turned – he saw Pooja and Maris standing there. They were plotting to escape, he knew. No matter – Plagueis was the priority anyway. His helmet returned to the clashing Sith.

The Muun Sith Lord parried, before his wiry legs sprung up, spinning over the Emperor. Palpatine was ready – his gnarled fingers unfurled, lightning spewed out, striking the spot where Plagueis landed. The Muun erected a Force barrier, rising to his full height.

ZMMM. VMMM!

Across the room, two Stormtroopers toppled headless to the floor. Maris phased in over them, her shoto-mounted blades glowing. Using the Force, she lifted the arms of the two troopers. Under her invisible control, their fingers spasmed on their rifles, shooting the rest of the Stormtroopers in the room. Then she widened her legs, grabbed Pooja across the room, Force Pulling her to herself. She sliced a hole in the wall –

Plagueis and Sidious' swords were once again crossed. Palpatine was completely unfazed by Maris and Pooja's escape. Vader unfurled his arms and began to trek across the room, attempting to follow Maris and Pooja –

"No!" Palpatine yelled. "They are inconsequential! I want you to see this Lord Vader!"

Plagueis merely smiled back through their crossed weapons. "Yes, Lord Vader. Stay – watch as the Dark Side fails your Master as it serves the true Dark Lord of the Sith!"

"You fool – I am the Dark Side!"

Sidious summoned his energy – a sphere of pure Force power whirled around him – and he thrust his arms out to his sides. The sphere compressed, blasting out windows. Broken glass rained down on them and a vortex of lightning arced around the Emperor, spinning up, up to the cathedral height ceiling. Palpatine waved his hand and the vortex of power turned into a single bolt, summoned into his index and middle fingers, concentrated. His rotten teeth gleaming, the Emperor aimed his glowing fingers at his former master.

ZZZZAAAAAAAPPPPP!

The room was lit with blinding light.

Plagueis was ready. He deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it to his side and held out a hand, allowing the Emperor's Force Lightning to flow into it. He chuckled as he saw the smile falter on Sidious' face for the briefest moment – and then he aimed his fingers at the Emperor, redirecting the lightning back at him.

Palpatine snarled, diving out of the way. He glanced up – Plagueis was dropping down from above, his lightsaber held high above his head in both hands. He slashed down as he landed, the blade humming as it cleaved towards its target.

VMMM!

Plagueis stopped short, his body stiffened, his mouth going slack. He dropped his lightsaber and looked down –

A red lightsaber blade had impaled him through his stomach, the tip jutting out from his back. Sidious stood there, bathed in bloodred light as he slowly pushed the blade further into his old master's stomach. The room spun around the Muun Sith Lord – the Emperor's red lightsaber continued burning away his internals.

"How long I have awaited this moment," Palpatine breathed. "You were asleep the last time I killed you … I didn't get to relish it, to stare into your eyes as the light left them …"

Behind them, Vader sauntered over, staring at the Muun. Plagueis' eyes turned to Vader, his mouth slowly opening. He turned and looked back at Palpatine.

"The ancient ritual of the Sith Lords has been fulfilled," Palpatine breathed. "The Sith throne is indeed … mine …" And Palpatine cackled.

He cackled because he had won. The Dark Side had chosen him. The Spirits of the Ancient Sith within him, fueling his power, would never doubt his rightful claim to the mantle of the Dark Lord again.

The corners of Plagueis' mouth suddenly rose, and he joined Palpatine in laughing.

The Emperor's smile faltered, though it never left his face. "Has the face of death driven my old master mad?"

"No. I'm just enjoying the fact that you think this is a victory."

The Emperor hissed. He pushed the blade forward, all the way to the hilt.

Blood was running from Plagueis' mouth – his long fingers suddenly grabbed Palpatine by his wrists. He stared down, laughing maniacally, his eyes wide and bulging. "As I said – your overconfidence will be your undoing!"

"I have foreseen –"

"Are your senses so attuned, my old apprentice, to foresee that I wanted you to kill me?!"

Palpatine's eyes flashed as the impact of Plagueis' words hit him. "No …"

Plagueis' laughing only grew. "You freed me, Sidious. From this old and weakening clone body. Allowing me to merge into a new clone body."

The Emperor snapped his head to Vader. "You told me all his clones had been corrupted?!" He snarled, staring back at Plagueis with all the hatred he could muster.

"As though I hadn't foreseen that Vader would attempt to destroy my clones. On your orders." The older Sith Lord leaned forward. "Vader only destroyed those clones because I let him. Everything that has transpired today has not been by your design – but by mine! I had a sublevel … hidden, even from my own men. Two clones. One – a failure, an abomination. But another – a perfect, youthful clone. You are familiar, of course, with the gifts of essence transfer?" Plagueis leaned back, still smiling.

"Then I'll destroy your last clone as I did this one …"

"You're too late," he cackled. "I've already dispatched the final clone body – to planet's surface. Just outside the temple. I will siphon the power of Mortis – the Wellspring of the Force is mine to command! Eternal power! Eternal life and youth! Immortality … the Legend of Darth Plagueis the Wise will come true!" His voice was weakening, cracking. "Your throne … your Empire … is mine …"

And Plagueis swayed, falling backwards off Palpatine's lightsaber. His chest heaved, he spit blood – and then he moved no more.

For a moment there was silence. Vader and Palpatine drew closer to the Muun's body – a red mist rose up from Plagueis' clothes – and suddenly his body was consumed in a fierce, red Force storm. Vader and the Emperor shielded their eyes – as the cackling spirit of Darth Plagueis – his essence – arose into the air. It hovered for a moment, before it leaped downwards, vanishing through the floor.

Palpatine hissed. He deactivated his weapon and turned. He gave orders to his apprentice as they walked. "You will go to the planet's surface, my apprentice."

"I am to destroy his new clone body?" Vader asked.

"Do not be foolish. You were not strong enough to destroy him in this last body. He will find the two Starkillers. Let them destroy each other. Then, when the survivors are tired and weakened – finish those who remain."

"You foresaw this," Vader realized. "All of it. Even this new clone body on Mortis."

"He thought he ensared me … but in reality, I have just trapped his final piece on this dejarik board. You will see soon enough. There is much work to be done."

Vader stopped. "And what will you do, Master?"

"Representative Naberrie and that former apprentice of Shaak Ti are still aboard. It has been some time since I have stretched my legs." He turned his hooded head. "Do not fail me again. Apprentice."

.

.

.

On Mortis' surface, outside of the temple, the starfighter's red light continued blinking. Inside, the bacta tank remained still, the body inside – a Muun's body – suddenly twitched. Its eyes flashed open. The bacta tank slowly drained. A compartment in the ceiling dropped a package to the pod's floor. The package's lid opened as it dropped, revealing Sith robes and a lightsaber …

.

.

.

Starkiller was still cradling the prone form of Juno Eclipse. He held her head in his lap, his tears dripping onto her face.

A footstep caused his head to jerk up. A shadow fell over him …

Galen Marek stood over him and Juno, his face solemn. One look at Juno told him everything he needed to know. He sunk to his knees, on the other side of Juno's body. He took her hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. Her fingers were cold as ice.

Starkiller stared at Galen, shocked at his apparent rise from the dead. Galen proffered him a sad smile. He rested his hand on Juno's forehead; his own tears rose. "We were too late …"

Starkiller stared down at Juno's face. Her eyes were closed. She could have been sleeping. "For the past few months … I was so devoted to her … obsessed with saving her … yet I failed her …"

Galen reached out, squeezing his shoulder. "But I'm glad … I'm glad that you were there for her for the last few months of her life … that you made sure she was surrounded by people she cared about. That's what she wanted most."

The two hung their heads, sharing in their mutual grief and loss …

Another shadow fell across the interior of the temple. Galen and Starkiller's heads shot up at the hooded figure approaching. They could sense the immense evil and power emanating from this new figure. They both stood up.

"Show yourself!" Starkiller demanded.

The figure threw back his hood –

"Plagueis?" Galen asked.

Darth Plagueis, in a new, younger cloned body, smiled at them, his cape fluttering in the wind as his fingers twitched over a lightsaber hanging from his belt.

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.

.

"We can't take much more of this! Commander, we have to order a retreat!"

The pilot's voice was silenced. Bail watched as another blockade runner was hammered by the Imperial Star Destroyers. Behind them, the Mandalorian fleet was being pushed back the advancing Imperials. Captain Antilles approached, holding a casualty report.

"Senator Organa … we have to retreat …"

Bail stared ahead at Mortis.

"The life of one good man does not outweigh the lives of a hundred …"

A Y-wing was vaporized right front of them. More explosions. More Rebel pilots turned into slag. Bail closed his eyes. "Give the order."

"Sir?"

Bail's eyes remained closed. "Retreat."

"It'll take a few moments to coordinate what's left of our fleet, Senator. There will be more losses – but no more than what has already been lost."

Captain Antilles walked away. Bail opened his eyes, stared at the planet before him, then slammed his fist on the console.

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.

.

Choom! Choom!

Pooja was barricaded against a wall at the end of a corridor onboard the Mandalorian flagship. She exchanged fire with several Stormtroopers on the other side Red bolts lanced around her. She ducked out from cover, popping two shots off, taking down two white armored stormtroopers.

At the far end, Mandalorian reinforcements arrived. They set up a gun turret. With a spray of fire, the Stormtroopers fell to the ground in succession, riddled with holes. Pooja ducked back as the Mandalorian shock troops advanced.

Bzzt! Vmm!

The Mandalorians cried out and Pooja ducked back out from cover – Maris had phased in and was gliding her shoto blades gracefully like butter through their armor. Maris turned, nodding to her new partner. Pooja nodded back – before popping off a shot at a surviving Mandalorian that had risen behind the young Jedi.

"The hangar is this way," Maris was saying. "We can grab one of their ships – hopefully get back to the fleet."

"No!" Pooja shook her head. "We have to get to the planet's surface. Starkiller is in danger!"

"He is not the only one, I'm afraid."

Pooja and Maris whirled around – Emperor Palpatine was cackling at them from the far end of the room. The lights in the corridor flickered – then went out. Orange emergency lights flared on, bathing them in a hellish glow.

The ship rocked. It was taking heavy fire from the Imperials outside.

Maris spun her blades on her wrist. "Get to the hangar."

Pooja looked at her questioningly. "Maris?"

"Go! I'll be along in a moment." Her eyes narrowed. "He's the cause of this … of everything. It's time my old Master Shaak Ti finally got some justice."

"I'm not leaving you!" Pooja remained defiant.

Maris sighed. "I know." She spun her arm, Force Pushing Pooja through an open hatch. With a quick motion of her fingers, the blast door slammed shut, trapping Pooja on the other side towards the hangar. The Zabrak Padawan then turned to face her foe.

"The pride of the Jedi was always their downfall," Palpatine gloated. "As it will be yours."

"We'll see," Maris spat.

And Palpatine's arms spread – like wings of a great bat – and the hallway was filled with a fierce Force Storm. Maris created a Force Shield, struggling to hold back the stray bolts. Her shield buckled, was fading. Her feet skidded along the hull several feet. Her shield wouldn't hold much longer, she knew.

She couldn't hold the Emperor back for much longer.

.

.

.

"I really hope you have a plan …" Starkiller stood up, nursing his stump of a wrist. Galen stood at his side. They stood in front of Juno's body, like a mother tu'kata protecting her welps.

Galen stared hard at the Muun Dark Lord. "What do you want from us, Plagueis?"

"Nothing," Darth Plagueis replied. "I have everything I need now. Or, I will. In just a moment."

Starkiller turned, looking at the pit in the center of the temple. "The Wellspring …" His head spun to Galen. "He was never going to let you siphon the power of Mortis! This was his plan all along! He's going to harness the Wellspring for himself!"

"Eternal power … eternal life." The smile never left Plagueis' lips. "My old apprentice was correct. I did indeed find the path to immortality … and now, it is finally within my grasp."

Galen flicked his wrists, activating his twin red lightsabers. Next to him, despite his agony, Starkiller summoned Kento's blue blade from the ground, activating it with his good hand. "Not if we stop you."

"You will try!"

Plagueis thrust his hand out. Both young men were blasted back with a wave of Force energy. The two slammed into a far wall, their lightsabers clattering to the ground, rolling away uselessly. Starkiller and Galen struggled, pinned in place. "I … can't move …" Starkiller mumbled.

Galen struggled against the iron force holding him and his clone in place. "It's … too strong …"

Holding one hand aloft, holding the two in place against the wall, Plagueis sauntered over to the Wellspring of the Force. At his feet, Juno's body lay silently … unmoving. Plagueis ignored her. Instead, he stared down into the Wellspring, his eyes alight with greed.

"Plagueis!" Starkiller yelled. "Stop this!"

Plagueis aimed his free hand at the Wellspring. He turned his head to Darth Vader's two apprentices. His smile was condescending. "You two both served my purposes and I thank you. I would never have reached Mortis if not for either of you. If only either of you had been able to siphon Mortis' power, you would have been truly invincible. But I see now, that you were both too fearful to take what could have been yours. You were afraid. Gods must be strong. Destiny - the Dark Side - has chosen me to be its avatar, its embodiment. I am the Dark Side!"

The Muun's fingers hovered over the pit. He closed his eyes, concentrating. Starkiller and Galen could only watch in horror as the energies within the Wellspring began to swirl as a great vortex. It spun up, out of the pit, into Plagueis' fingers, coursing through his body. Lightning and energy swirled around him as the Dark Lord began siphoning the energies of the Wellspring into himself.

.

.

.

The Imperial Fleet had put the Mandalorian fleet on the defensive. Two Mandalorian cruisers erupted into flame, falling headlong towards the planet's surface. The Mandalorian flagship – Plagueis' ship – was being battered relentlessly by three Star Destroyers. Its hull was pounded repeatedly by green turbolasers and blue ion blasts.

.

.

.

The corridors of the Mandalorian flagship rocked violently. Lights were flickering. Mandalorian troops were scattering in all directions. With Plagueis gone, no one seemed in command.

That did not stop two combatants. They faced each other squarely and head-on.

Maris Brood charged down the hall towards her foe, her blades mounted on her wrists. The Emperor smiled wickedly, hissing a laugh as she reached him. Their sabers were centimeters from connecting –

Maris phased out, vanishing. She reappeared behind the withered Sith Lord, preparing to bury her blades deep into his shoulders. The Emperor laughed – he spun, reaching out, capturing her in midair with the Force. He hurled her across the room. She slammed into the hull. There was a metallic taste in her mouth. Blood.

Palpatine cocked his head. He was cackling.

Maris flipped back onto her feet. She jumped up, kicking off the wall, spiraling downward – she phased in midair, vanishing from sight.

Palpatine's eyes glittered. Maris materialized – this time in front of him – lightning blasted her back. He had been ready for her.

Maris forced herself back to her feet. If she was going down, she would go down fighting. She rose to her full height, spinning her blades. She charged – vanished again. This time, she did not rematerialize.

Palpatine stood silently in the hallway. Orange emergency lights flickered. "I can sense your presence, my young Jedi. One does not need eyes to see." He took a few steps forward, his smile from under his hood never leaving his face. "You are more visible to me than you can possibly – imagine!"

Maris had materialized above him, ready to strike down. His gnarled hand lashed out, grabbing her through the Force. Laughing, he slammed her into the wall. Then the opposite wall. He tossed her about like a rag doll, slamming her into the walls. With both hands, he raised her high into the air, then slammed her hard into the floor. She lay on the ground, the floor dented below her. He towered over her, frowning. "I do hope you'll give my regards to your old master."

"Better idea –" Maris spat. "How about you give them yourself?!"

Her hands wrenched out, grabbing the floor. She summoned her energy and was surrounded by a sphere of compressed air. The air around her swirled, then exploded. The Emperor wrapped himself in a Dark Side mantle, absorbing the energy. He looked down – the floor was giving way beneath them. Below – was a reactor core room.

Maris allowed herself to fall with the floor, debris raining down around her as she landed. She stood up, her weapons still fixed on her wrists. She stared up at the hole above her – the Emperor was there. With a snarl, he leaped down after her.

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.

.

Gale force winds swept through the interior of the temple of Mortis. Plagueis' body was glowing as he siphoned more and more Force energies from the Wellspring of the Force. Juno's body lay limply at his feet, her blonde hair whipping around her unmoving face.

Galen and Starkiller were still pinned to the wall, Plagueis still holding them in place. Galen grit his teeth. "We … have to stop … this …!"

The force vortex in the center of the room spread out. The ground was shaking. Rocks and debris rained down as the ceiling was dislodged.

"He'll bring this whole place down around us!" Galen yelled. He turned his head – Starkiller was next to him. But instead of watching – the clone's eyes were closed. As though he were meditating. Concentrating. And then – Galen sensed a surge of power.

Starkiller's body burst free from the wall with a vicious Force Repulse. The invisible bindings pinning him and Galen to the wall vanished and the two dropped to the floor. Galen summoned his twin red blades and Kento Marek's blue blade slapped into Starkiller's remaining hand. The two stood side-by-side, ready to take down this monstrosity together.

But they were too late – the vortex surrounding the Dark Lord had vanished. He turned – white light bubbled out the Sith Lord's eyes and mouth. His voice was amplified and mixed with others – as though a thousand other Sith Lords were speaking with him. He could feel all the power of the universe bubbling inside him. He clenched his fist.

"I am invincible …" Darth Plagueis breathed.

.

.

.

The Mandalorian fleet was in disarray. Communications had been cut. Several more Mandalorian cruisers either spiraled out of control or vanished into small supernovas. The Mandalorian fighter squadrons were no longer organized – or even attempting to fight back. The scores of TIE Fighters released by the Imperials was overwhelming. And now – the Mandalorian flagship was under bombardment. Three Star Destroyers surrounded it, firing nonstop. TIE Bombers dropped their loads onto its hull, and the ship rocked with explosions.

With the Mandalorian fleet completely unresponsive, several other Imperial Star Destroyers turned their attention to the Rebels. Bail watched as they lumbered towards his ship, opening fire. His bridge rocked under the firepower of the Imperial Fleet.

"How much longer?" he demanded of Captain Antilles.

The captain stared at holo-images of the battle. "Another minute or two before we're in position."

"At the rate those Star Destroyers are coming –"

"Some of our men will have to buy us some time -."

"Out of the question."

"Then the entire fleet is doomed."

Bail stared at the advancing Star Destroyers. He lowered his head. "Give the order."

.

.

.

The Mandalorian flagship was out of control. The ship shuddered and buckled. The reactor core was going insane. Random bolts of energy lashed out as Maris stood up, staring at the Emperor. Lasers blasted randomly across the room. One flashed between the two combatants. Palpatine stared at the shooting core pistons which were shooting random lasers. Maris did not like the evil smile that was now flitting on his face.

The Emperor raised his hands. Several of the randomly shooting laser pistons turned – aiming at Maris. They fired at once. Gritting her teeth, Maris rolled across the core, the lasers following at her feet, firing nonstop. She spun up – phasing out of the material realm, the lasers riddling the wall behind her.

Palpatine cackled. "I can sense your every whereabouts! There is no escape!" His hand jerked to the right just as Maris rematerialized. Her eyes widened as the lasers came for her. She dove – just missing being fried by centimeters.

There was a flash of red – Maris cried out at her side was burned by a bloodred Sith blade. Palpatine slashed again, up her side, the wound cauterizing itself. She collapsed to the ground in a heap. The lasers were still going off, but now that they were no longer under Palpatine's control, the shooting was random.

The Emperor towered over the Jedi apprentice. He held his blade at her throat. Maris stared up at him with all the defiance in the galaxy. "Do it," she urged. "If you have the guts."

Palpatine's face twisted into a sneer. He reared his blade back, preparing for the final blow.

Maris closed her eyes, accepting her fate, looking forward to being reunited with Shaak Ti in the Force …

.

.

.

BZZZT! BZZZT!

.

The final blow never came. Maris lifted her head to see a blur of red where Palpatine was standing. He was deflecting the bolts coming from one of the out-of-control pistons – yet this one wasn't firing randomly. Maris narrowed her eyes as she rose to her feet –

Pooja was standing behind the piston, guiding it, aiming the nonstop firing lasers at the Emperor. "This is for Naboo!" she yelled. Palpatine sneered as he continually deflected the incoming blasts. "This is for the galaxy! This is for the Republic!"

Palpatine now had a one-handed grip on his lightsaber. His free hand lashed out as his side like a claw. Blue energy seethed in his palm. Fine, if the young Naberrie wanted it this way, he would give it to her and stamp out her cursed bloodline once and for all!

But Pooja did not seem perturbed. "And this …" She suddenly jerked the piston down, aiming not at the Dark Lord, but at the floor below him, "- is for Aunt Padme!" The piston unleashed a volley of lasers, striking down at the floor at Sidious' feet. The floor gave way – Palpatine's face betrayed utter hatred as he stared at Pooja – and then he plummeted away to the level below.

Pooja shoved the piston so its lasers fired in another direction. She hobbled over to the hole and peered down – she saw nothing but blackness. That wasn't enough to take the Emperor down, she knew. He'd be back momentarily. But this ship didn't seem like it had much longer anyway. She turned to Maris and held out a hand.

"I told you to leave," Maris said. She stared at Pooja's fingers in her face.

"I'm not leaving another friend behind to die today," Pooja shot back.

Maris smiled as she clasped Pooja's hand.

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.

.

The Rebel Fleet was taking serious casualties. A cruiser next to Bail's ship erupted into a ball of flame. He watched sadly as another Blockade Runner took several hits – he turned his gaze away.

"This was a mistake," he lamented. "What are the casualties?"

"We won't have a full report until we reconvene."

"How much longer till we can make the jump to hyperspace?"

"Another thirty seconds."

"We don't have –"

Behind them, two X-Wings exploded.

The Imperial Fleet was gaining ground. They no longer even cared about the now ravaged Mandalorian fleet. They were coming for the Rebels full force.

"It was a mistake coming here. I should have listened to Mon and Bel Iblis."

"No. We were the ones who made the mistake."

Bail's head shot up. It was a female voice – familiar. "Mon?"

Dozens of Rebel Cruisers suddenly surged out of hyperspace, between Bail's forces and the Imperials. Onboard the bridge of one cruiser, Mon Mothma stared out her viewscreen. On the cruiser next to hers, Garm Bel Iblis folded his arms.

Bail was ecstatic. "You came!"

"Form a perimeter around the survivors," Bel Iblis ordered. "We can't take the Empire in a head-on fight for long, but we can buy time for Bail's people to get out of here!" A dozen X-wings flew out of Garm's ship, engaging dozens of TIE fighters, leading them away from the survivors.

"Thank you," Bail said.

"Don't thank us just yet," Mon replied. "We still have to get everyone out of here."

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.

.

"You have to stop this!" Starkiller screeched. "You'll destroy the entire galaxy!"

Darth Plagueis turned to look at him. He smiled and spoke.

"I am the galaxy."

"You'll throw everything into chaos!" Starkiller protested. "Everything is touched by the Force! You'll destroy everything! The Jedi! The Sith! The galaxy! Everything!"

"Destroy? No. The power of the galax is mine. I command its fate! And you two – as strong as you are in the Force, you can't possibly stand up to me." He took a step for them. "With one strike, you both would be blown clean across the planet."

Starkiller spun his blade. "Don't underestimate us, Plagueis!"

"With the power of Mortis, I am able to command the Force at impossible scales!"

With a flick of his wrist, bolts of Force Lightning tore from his fingertips, surging across the temple, striking the two of them. Galen and Starkiller screamed – the Force energies were unlike any they faced before. They flew across the room, slamming hard into the ground. Smoke rose from their bodies as they struggled to rise to their fleet.

Plagueis slowly advanced, taking his time, intending to enjoy every second of this. "A small taste of my new power. And with the energy of Mortis coursing through my body, I can hold a lightning strike for an indefinite period of time. Imagine – an infinite stream of lightning with no end. Continuing forever."

"You … have to listen … to reason …" Starkiller said as he shakily rose to his feet, helping Galen up. Smoke continued to issue from their bodies.

The Dark Lord pointed a finger. Galen and Starkiller's bodies froze up. They rose into the air like marionettes. Plagueis gestured lazily as the two floated in midair, circling around him. "How pathetic. I am truly disappointed in both of you. I had hoped that Darth Vader's Secret Apprentices would have put up some resistance." He thrust his hand out – the duo went sailing across the room.

Galen was the first to respond. Ignoring his pain, he summoned his two blades and rushed the Dark Lord. Plagueis lazily batted him aside with a wave of his hand.

Starkiller appeared in Galen's place, hurling Kento's blade at the Muun. Plagueis sighed as he sidestepped it. Kento's blade spun back into Starkiller's hand and he screamed as he slashed towards the Muun's head.

With simply a jerk of the Sith's head, Starkiller flew across the room.

Starkiller scrabbled to his feet. He was joined by Galen. "He … shouldn't have … this power …" Galen breathed.

"No. No one should."

Plagueis stood at the other side of the temple. His body was glowing, surging with Force energy. Galen stared him down. And then – familiar words – words imparted to him by Anakin – filled his head …

~0~

"We're luminous beings. Not this crude matter."

~0~

"No one should," Galen mused. "No one can!"

"What do you mean?" Starkiller asked.

"The Force is beyond the material realm … every living thing is touched by it. But even those most powerful in the Force can be overwhelmed by too much power …"

"I'm not following," Starkiller quipped.

"The Force is beyond the material. His soul can survive … but his body …"

"His physical form won't be able to handle too much Force power," Starkiller realized.

"So then we give him more," Galen answered. "So much that his body can't withstand it. The sheer power of the Force will overwhelm his material frame."

"So we destroy him by making him more powerful? Okay … how do we go about it?"

"By using the same methods he taught us," Galen answered. "Midichlorians can be stolen … or given." He stared ahead, looking at Juno's limp body. A new resolve came over him. "You and I … our midichlorians are probably off the scales. So I'm going to give him some of mine …"

"Will it be enough?" Starkiller asked.

"When I say 'some'," Galen answered, "I don't mean a few. I'm giving him every single midichlorian I've got!"

"You can't!" Starkiller said. "You won't just lose your connection to the Force! You'll die!"

"Then it'll be a small atonement for my crimes," he said. "And … I'll be with Juno."

"Whisper over there all you want, little insects," Plagueis mocked. "It'll make no difference in the end!"

"You really think it'll work?" Starkiller asked.

"It's our only shot," Galen replied. "Just … distract him … for a just a moment."

Starkiller spun Kento's blue blade in his hand. "I'll see you … on the other side."

And Starkiller charged. Galen sighed, closing his eyes, meditating. His last few thoughts were on Juno. He steeled his resolve for what was coming.

.

.

Starkiller raced straight for the Dark Lord. Plagueis was laughing. He caught Starkiller midair, jerking him around like a ragdoll. Starkiller recovered with a Force Repulse. He slammed down onto the ground, forming a crater. His head rose – a red blade was screaming for his head. He rolled out of the way as Plagueis cackled, the temple reverberating with his voice.

"No matter what plan you two have concocted, it won't matter! I will defeat you and your plans! Nothing will stand in my way! Nothing can!"

"Wrong!"

Galen leaped from the darkness onto the Sith Lord's back. His forearm wrapped around Plagueis' neck. Plagueis struggled, snarling. And Galen closed his eyes and began transferring his midichlorians to the Dark Lord. As he once stole Starkiller's on Mustafar – and as Zarbina transferred hers to Starkiller – now Galen would give every last midichlorian he had to the Dark Lord in the hopes of destroying him once and for all.

Plagueis' body was glowing. The white light in his eyes intensified. He laughed. "Yes! I can feel myself growing stronger! Is this your plan?!"

"Yup," Galen gloated, even through his pain and gritted teeth.

Plagueis roared with laughter. And then he stopped. Something was going wrong. "What is this?!" Plaguies could feel the power coursing through his extremities. Bursting. "This is … too much! NO! Stop this!"

He struggled, reaching behind him, grabbing for Galen's body. He staggered to the edge of the Wellspring of the Force, teetering towards the edge. Galen held on with every fiber of his being.

"I … will … never … let … go …!"

"Then I'll bring this whole temple down around our ears!"

Plagueis reached up for the ceiling, lightning arcing from his fingertips in all directions as he summoned a Force Storm.

"It'll … do you … no good … I'll never … let go …"

Already Galen's face was paling. His hair color was fading and his skin was becoming translucent. Plagueis' body was swelling with intense light – and heat. He screamed as his own skin was dissolving away, revealing his skull. Plagueis cried, struggling to remove Galen from his back. He lifted his fingers, rearing Force Lightning back into Galen's back.

Galen stiffened. He screamed in agony as the Dark Lord's lightning tore through his body.

And yet, he still clung on.

He was the final hope for the galaxy.

And he still clung on.

.

"Galen …?"

.

The voice – a feminine voice – broke through the fog in Galen's head. Through the excruciating pain exploding in his brain, he slowly opened his eyes.

Juno was stirring on the floor, her eyes closed, but her lips moving.

"Galen …"

And in that brief instance of realizing Juno was still alive, Darth Plagueis took advantage of the distraction and blasted Galen off his back.

.

.

Galen plummeted from the Muun's shoulders, back into the abyss of the Wellspring of the Force. His fingers lashed out, grabbing the edge. He dangled above the abyss. Below, lightning and energy swirled in the pit. With the absence of its Force energies, the Wellspring was shaking violently. Lightning coursed through it.

Galen turned his head up.

Plagueis stared down – only his skull remained – yet his evil energies thrived on in the Muun's wiry form. Plagueis stared down. "So ends the tale of Darth Vader's Secret Apprentice." Lightning appeared in his fingertips and he aimed straight for Galen's head.

Galen closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable strike.

Juno … I'm sorry …

.

.

.

Starkiller appeared from the haze and grabbed Plagueis' wrist. Plagueis' jaw clicked as his head jerked.

"I'll be taking it from here," Starkiller said defiantly. And Galen and Plagueis both watched in amazement as Starkiller closed his eyes and picked up where Galen left off – transferring his own midichlorians into Plagueis' already weakening frame.

Plagueis struggled. "NO! I'll destroy us all!" He raised his free hand, ready to unleash more Force Lightning.

Starkiller was not phased. He turned his weakening head to his brother dangling from the edge of the pit. "Take care of her for me, Galen. And … tell Pooja I had to do this. Tell her I'm sorry -."

And Starkiller, with his other hand, grabbed the front of Plagueis' robes. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall backwards into the pit, dragging Plagueis with him.

.

.

Starkiller and Plagueis appeared to fall in slow motion. As they plummeted down the deep abyss of the Force's Wellspring, Starkiller continually fed his midichlorians into the struggling and screaming Sith Lord. They were surrounded in a web of energy and Force Lightning.

As they fell, memories bubbled up from Starkiller's subconscious.

Awakening in the cloning facility on Kamino.

A droid – posing as Juno – standing before him with Darth Vader telling him he must destroy what Galen Marek loved.

He saw himself unable to bring himself to do it. Fleeing Kamino.

Battling the Gorog with Kota.

Visiting Yoda on Dagobah.

Battling Vader on Kamino.

Remembering his words to Vader. "I let you live."

Their escapades on Cloud City.

On Onderon.

Their visit to Naboo.

The ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn guiding him.

His duel with Darth Vader on Mustafar.

And … Pooja's face. He remembered those eyes, piercing yet compassionate. Their final kiss.

He was a clone. Yes, that was true.

But he had lived his own life.

As his frame weakened, as he exhausted the last of his midichlorians … he smiled.

It was a life worth living.

.

.

.

Darth Plagueis screamed as he plummeted, his flesh dissolving away, then his bones. His body exploded in a rush of Dark Side energy. Starkiller closed his eyes, holding Pooja's face in his mind's eye, focusing on her to the exclusion of all else … as he was consumed in the explosion …

.

.

Galen Marek screamed as a fierce wind ripped through the temple. The blue explosions of light vanished …

… and brought with it an ethereal calm.

Galen turned his head to look down into the pit. He could see – the Force energies which had been siphoned by Plagueis – were now right back in the Wellspring where they belonged.

But even though Darth Plagueis had been destroyed, Galen could not hold back his tears. He stared down into the Wellspring.

"Goodbye … Brother …"

He climbed out of the pit.

.

.

Onboard the now imploding Mandalorian flagship, Maris raced with Pooja to one of the hangars. Ignoring the retreating Mandalorian troops, ignoring the alarms blaring throughout the ship, Maris led Pooja to a starfighter.

Pooja stopped. She stared out the hangar entrance to the planet in their view. She felt as though a dagger had penetrated her heart.

Maris felt it too. "It's him … he …"

Pooja stared ahead, holding back her tears. "Goodbye … Starkiller …"

.

.

"Juno!"

Galen Marek scrabbled at the edge of the pit and pulled himself up. He dropped to Juno's side, cradling her head in his lap. "Juno, please! There's still time!"

Juno was once again silent. Galen felt for a pulse – it was there. Sluggish. He could sense her heart pumping thick, sluggish blood through her veins. Only a few pumps left.

He turned – looked back into the Wellspring. Was there enough time to heal her? Could he siphon some of its power to save her?

"Juno – I'm gonna help you! Okay! You're gonna make it!"

Out of a thick, smoky cloud, a dark figure appeared in the temple. Galen, still cradling Juno's head in his lap, stared ahead. An all-too-familiar breathing sound filled the room. An all-too-familiar presence.

Darth Vader appeared through the smoke and towered over Galen and Juno.

No! He was right here at the Wellspring, able to save Juno – blast it all!

"She's too far gone," Vader said as though reading Galen's thoughts.

"No! I –"

"The Wellspring can only stave off death. It cannot remove the virus. Even if you bought her a few days or weeks, the virus would only return. And you – I can sense you have diminished. Yes … your affinity with the Force seems to have left you – for good."

Galen lowered his head. "You're right," he realized. "I gave too many of my own midichlorians to stop Plagueis. I … I can barely even hear the Force anymore."

"Which means you have no further use for me." Vader unclipped his lightsaber from his belt.

Galen raised his tear-stained eyes. "Wait. Please … I'm no threat to you any longer, but if you want to kill me, go ahead. Just … you have the cure for the virus. You showed it to me, remember?"

Vader stared down at his former Secret Apprentice.

"Please," Galen begged. "Just let Juno have the cure. You can do whatever you want to me, but please … just give her the cure. Let her live!"

"You are in no position to bargain, apprentice!" With a flick of his thumb, the scarlet blade extended from Vader's hilt.

"Anakin," Galen begged. "Please!"

Vader stopped. He stared down at his Secret Apprentice. "That name no longer has any meaning for me." He raised his weapon.

"You loved her once! Padme!"

Vader stared down at him, weapon raised.

"I saw what you did to her on Mustafar. The person you loved most in this world – you killed her! And you live with that guilt! Please – for Padme's sake, I beg you!"

Vader simply stared.

Galen slowly lowered Juno's head onto the stone floor. He weakly stood up, staring at Vader. "I'm no threat to you any longer. I can't even feel the Force anymore. I can't make you give me the cure. But please … if there's any part of you that ever truly loved Padme Amidala – any part of you that regrets losing your son …" Galen fell to his knees, his head lowered. "If you ever regarded me … even once … as a son … please do me this one kindness … please, Anakin … you can have my head. Please … just don't make me go through life without the woman I love …"

Galen lowered his head as though offering it on an execution block.

Snap-hiss.

No blow came. Galen opened his eyes to see that Vader's lightsaber was deactivated and the Sith Lord was now opening a small compartment on his utility belt. Vader raised a gauntlet. Between his thumb and index finger was an orange vial. With his other hand, Vader raised a finger.

"You will have a head start. Five minutes. If you linger, you both die."

"You – you mean –?"

Vader cut him off. "You will go to the far edges of the galaxy. If you return to public life – if you return to the Rebellion – you both die!"

"I -."

"If you reveal anything that has transpired here between you and me – if you give the Emperor any impression that I did anything other than strike you down – you both die!"

Galen nodded, tears running down his face.

"And if you ever cross my path again – you both DIE!"

Vader dropped the vial at Galen's knees. Unable to believe what was happening, Galen grabbed it. He stared at it; his eyes filled with tears.

When he looked up, Vader had vanished.

Driving his former master from his memory, he turned to Juno. With his thumb, he flicked the cap off the vial and with his other hand, held Juno's limp head upright. Her mouth hung slack. Praying it wasn't too late, Galen poured the orange liquid down her throat. He tossed the now empty vial aside and held Juno's head in his lap.

There was no response. She wasn't breathing.

His head hung. He was too late.

"Juno … Juno, I'm sorry …"

He lowered his head to her lips, to give her one final kiss. His eyes darted open as he found that she was kissing him back. Her hand – though still weak – moved with newfound strength to the back of his head and pulled him in. Their lips broke apart. Galen's eyes were filled with tears. Juno brushed them aside.

"Guess I won't have to live that down," she replied.

"No. Not ever again."

And Galen pressed his forehead to hers.

Their tears mixed.

.

.

.

"We're in position. All surviving craft accounted for!" Garm Bel Iblis was shouting orders.

"Are there any other survivors?!" Bail was yelling at Captain Antilles. "Any?"

"None. Sir – with all due respect, we're in position. The Empire is closing in. If there were any other survivors, they would be here already."

Bail nodded. "Give the signal."

Captain Antilles lifted his finger, giving their pilots the go-ahead to go to lightspeed. Behind them, the Empire was ever closer, their turbolasers lancing around the Rebel Fleet.

"Wait!" Bail was pointing. A small snub fighter was racing straight for their hangar.

Onboard, Maris Brood piloted full force, Pooja in the passenger seat. "Come on – come on, they're about to go to lightspeed!"

The hangar bay doors were already closing. Maris grit her teeth. "This is where the fun begins!" She accelerated. Pooja held on for dear life.

"We're not gonna make it!"

"We're gonna make it!"

The hangar doors were sliding. Maris spun the controls of their fighter, angled the ship sideways, slipping right through the hangar doors into the hangar bay. The fighter skidded along the floor of the hangar. "I don't know how to break!" Maris yelled. She and Pooja held on for dear life as the fighter careened along the floor, skidding to a stop.

"I think that went well," Maris said.

.

As the Empire closed in, the Rebel fleet suddenly vanished into lightspeed, right out of the Empire's clutches!

.

.

.

Bail stormed into the hangar of his ship, followed by several Rebel troops and Captain Antilles. He stared at the surviving pilots.

Pooja and Maris climbed out of their starship. They were thronged by their fellow rebels. Red Leader was patching up his crew and the surviving Beast Riders. Pooja walked through the crowds of survivors, looking around. Maris followed, rubbing her arm awkwardly.

"Pooja –" she began. "You know he didn't -."

"He did!" Pooja spat back. "He had to."

Wedge Antilles came racing up to her in his flight gear. "Pooja! Did he – is he …?"

"You were the one guiding The Rogue Shadow to the temple!" Pooja spat back. "You tell me –"

"He got to the temple," Wedge answered. "After that -."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Maris interjected. "I sensed it as we left the Mandalorian ship. He's …"

"I will not accept that," Pooja retorted. "I can't."

Maris stared helplessly as Pooja turned and left the hangar. She looked up at Wedge. One look at her face told him everything he needed to know about Starkiller's fate. He nodded, turning away, hiding his own face.

Bail stood there himself, seeing the interaction. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pendant – it was the symbol of the Rebellion. The Starkiller family crest. His face solemn, he turned and headed back for the bridge.

.

.

.

A shuttle – flanked by two TIE Fighters – screamed for the surface of a stormy planet. It headed for a large, black structure.

Inside the structure, hooded figures worked as Red Stormtroopers stood at attention. Darth Vader's breathing could be heard as he walked through a newly set-up laboratory. He followed in the wake of his master, Emperor Palpatine.

"Yes, everything has proceeded as I had foreseen." The Emperor was gloating. "As though my old Master didn't realize that I knew he still had two clones remaining. A youthful strong body – it was destroyed on Mortis, apprentice?"

"Yes," replied Vader. "I confirmed it. His new clone body is no more."

"Which leaves the one final clone body remaining. The failed clone. An 'Abomination' is what he called the failures. A fitting title now." Palpatine reached a yellow tube stationed in the center of the lab. Inside was a body. Vader stood at the Emperor's side, staring at the twisted, deformed clone inside.

"My old master was highly skilled in the practice of 'essence transfer'. The ability to transfer his consciousness to a new clone body. But do you know what happens when a Force User melds with an unsuccessful clone?"

"No, my Master."

"Oh, their Force abilities remain potent. They're able to function normally as any other person does. But there is one side effect." Palpatine's rotten features were reflected by the yellow tank. "Memory loss. Which is why he disposed of all his failed clone bodies, save this one. But after his death at the hands of your old apprentices on Mortis, he had no choice … his essence had to transfer to another body or be lost forever. And the only clone body available to him was this failed one."

Vader stared at the failed clone body – the clone body that, he knew, now housed the soul and essence of Darth Plagueis. Its eyes were closed – it didn't even look like a Muun. Its head was dented and its features twisted.

Palpatine was gleeful. "The ultimate insult. And my ultimate victory. Why kill my old master? One does not throw a useful blade away when it can still be used, concealed – a holdout in reserve to strike when your enemy thinks you are beaten. With his memories wiped clean, I can install a new identity. Yes, the Master has become the Servant. A holdout, a final reserve should the impossible happen. Darth Plagueis will serve me well … my creation." He pressed his hand on the glass. "My beautiful Snoke …"

.

.

Darth Vader was leaving the lab on Exegol when he heard the Emperor's voice. He commanded the guards around them. "Leave us."

The Sith Eternal and the Red Stormtroopers nodded, leaving the room. Palpatine stared at the back of Vader's helmet.

"You did finish off the line of Starkiller? Or am I mistaken, apprentice?"

"You are correct, my Master."

Palpatine shuffled closer, a low light reflecting on his hood. He leaned forward on his cane. "Your feelings are conflicted. Perhaps a pang of guilt? After all, the boy was the closest thing to an offspring you have ever had. Will ever have."

"My feelings are clear, my Master."

"Indeed? Your thoughts betray you." Palpatine stood closer. "Anakin Skywalker is dead, apprentice?"

"I have killed him, my Master."

"As you have killed Galen Marek?"

Vader remained silent.

"I will not press the issue. But should doubts ever arise … should Anakin Skywalker ever make a reappearance … everyone is replaceable, apprentice. Let your mind dwell on Lords Maul and Tyranus."

There was a moment's silence.

"Go," Palpatine commanded. "There is an issue with my new battle station. Some plans may have been leaked. Return to your fortress on Mustafar. Summon Director Krennec to answer for this."

"Yes, my Master."

Palpatine turned and vanished back into the darkness of his lair.

Darth Vader stood there for a moment, by himself, a sole ray of light reflecting off his minted helmet. He stared ahead.

Galen Marek was the only Son he had ever known. And now that he had been banished from Vader's life – now that the clone Starkiller was dead – Vader was, once again, alone.

He gathered his cloak and walked towards his shuttle in his eternal solitude …

.

.

.

On a faraway planet, the survivors of the Mortis Campaign had landed their ships on a sandy beach for repairs. Bail met with Mon Mothma and Garm Bel Iblis, discussing their next move. Something about "Jedha" and "Operation Stardust." Wedge and the other members of Red Squadron paid attention. Bail finished his conversation then stared out the viewscreen of the bridge of his ship.

Outside, standing in the ocean, stood Maris Brood. She stared at the setting sun as the ocean water washed over her legs.

Behind her, Pooja waded into the water. She stood next to Maris as they stared ahead. They stood in silence.

"You know – it's funny." Maris broke the silence. Pooja looked up at her expectantly. "I swore I would destroy Starkiller. He ended up saving us all. There's a lesson in there somewhere."

"He died a hero," Pooja replied. "And as for the real Galen Marek – or Juno – it's anyone's guess what happened."

"They're alive," Maris said. "I can sense it. They made it."

"Will we ever see them again?" Pooja asked.

"Who knows? The Force works as it will. Will they come back, join the Rebellion? Maybe. Maybe not."

Pooja regarded Maris with an appraising look. "What about you? You have a place here now, with the Rebellion."

"I'm leaving," Maris answered.

"Leaving? But –"

"The Rebels don't need me. Besides, there's a lot more evil in the galaxy than just the Empire. The Jedi are sworn to protect all life. There's a galaxy out there suffering and … if I can be of any help to anyone out there, I will. Maybe Starkiller rubbed off on me a little, I don't know. And … I would like to visit Felucia one final time. Pay my final respects to Shaak Ti. I didn't really leave the planet in the best state …"

"Well, wherever you go, you always have a place here among us. Among friends."

"Friends? I think I like the sound of that." She smiled and drew Pooja into a warm hug. Pooja, her eyes brimming with tears, hugged her back. Maris gripped her new friend's shoulders. "Welp, sun's are setting. I better get a move on and burn some serious light years. There's a galaxy that needs me."

Maris turned and waded to the edge of the water. She turned to see Pooja still standing there, staring at the sunset. "You aren't gonna stay there all night, are 'ya?"

"I … I just need a few minutes."

Maris smiled at the back of her head. "I'll be in touch soon … friend …" Maris headed up the coastline and vanished from view.

.

.

Pooja remained standing there in the water, well past sunset. She stared at the planet's full moon overhead. Her thoughts were still on Starkiller, their final kiss, his promise that they would figure things out when he returned.

She wiped her eyes.

"His spirit lives on in the Force."

Pooja turned her head – Zarbina was walking through the water, joining the young Naberrie in the ocean. Zarbina herself was filled with tears.

"You knew this would happen?" Pooja said. "You foresaw all of it."

"I foresaw one of many possible outcomes," Zarbina answered. "This was the one I had the most hope in."

"In his death?"

"No. In his life. He may have been a clone … but did that make him any less than what he was?"

"No," Pooja answered quickly. "Not at all."

"He was created through artificial means, but the heart that beat inside him beat true to the very end. In his final moment, as he gave himself to stop Darth Plagueis from destroying us all, he held onto one final, solitary thought. One spark of light that kept him moving forward, motivating him to give his very life."

"What?"

"You."

Zarbina turned and left Pooja alone. Pooja stared up at the stars, her eyes brimming. She smiled through her tears.

.

.

.

A light flared through a series of dark trees.

A forest.

Kashyyyk. At night.

An vibro-axe whizzed through the air, cutting a stump in pieces.

Galen Marek wiped the sweat from his brow as he placed another log on the chopping block. He grabbed his axe –

"Tell me more, Daddy!"

A small boy – the spitting image of Galen Marek when he was first found here by Darth Vader so many years ago – was sitting on a stump, his eyes bright, fascinated by his father's stories. Behind them, the old Marek house had been rebuilt to its former glory.

Galen laughed. "It's almost dinner time! Your mother's making your favorite!"

"Come on, Daddy!"

"Okay Rahm. One more." Galen sat down, placing his axe on his lap. "This time, I'll tell you about your Uncle Starkiller. And how he and I almost destroyed each other on Mortis -."

"Not this old tired story again?" Juno Eclipse stood in the doorway of the Marek homestead, arms folded.

"I love this story!" Rahm exclaimed.

"It's not my favorite," Juno replied.

"That's because you were unconscious for most of it!" Starkiller teased.

Juno's brow furrowed. "Oh? Perhaps I should tell our dear son about the time you were captured by a sarlaac on Felucia? Besides, enough Jedi stories, it's dinner time and then bed."

"You heard the commander," Galen laughed, picking his little boy up and hoisting him on his shoulders.

"I want to be a Jedi when I grow up!" Rahm exclaimed.

"Maybe you will one day. Maybe you will."

"And you can teach me!" Rahm squealed.

"Some of what I can remember. I won't be able to show you any Force powers or anything …"

He carried his son towards the doorway.

"Daddy – do you ever think of becoming a Jedi again?"

Galen stopped. He stared into Juno's eyes. She raised her eyebrows questioningly. He answered truthfully. "Yes. From time to time."

"Why don't you?"

"I lost my connection to the Force. Stopping Darth Plagueis. I lost so many midichlorians … But –" He placed little Rahm down on the ground and looked him square in the eyes. "That doesn't mean I can't be a guardian of peace and justice in the galaxy. There are a lot of problems here on Kashyyyk. Slavers. Imperials forcing the Wookies to mine. You don't have to be a Force User to still inhabit the spirit of the Jedi. To be a force for good in the galaxy."

"Yes," Juno interrupted. "Which is why I'm up half the night every night scared out of my wits as to whether you're going to come home from one of your escapades."

"They're not escapades," Galen laughed. "Helping young Wookies in the Shadowlands, trapping slavers, disrupting the occasional Imperial operation – it's hard work!"

"I think you're really brave, Daddy!"

Galen beamed down at his son. He knelt down, scooping the little boy up again and joined Juno in the doorway. The two kissed – Rahm made a face.

"I'll have the table set," Juno said as she turned back into the house.

Galen turned and looked down at his son.

He felt something – a presence behind him. Galen turned his head to see several lights walking among the trees. Rahm saw them too – his eyes widened.

The shapes morphed, sprouting limps and facial features.

The Force ghosts of Kento Marek, Mallie Marek, Qui-Gon Jinn and Rahm Kota were standing before him. They were smiling at him. He could sense their approval, knowing that even though he was cut off from the Force, the spirit of the Jedi still lived within him.

He turned – and stopped. A final figure appeared. Galen looked back and stared into the Force ghost of his own clone – Starkiller. Starkiller nodded at his brother, giving him his approval.

"Be happy, Brother," he said.

Galen smiled – at all of them. Then, kissing little Rahm on the cheek, he turned and followed Juno back into the warmth of his old home.

He closed the door behind him.

.

.

.

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you all again for reading this story! It's greatly appreciated! It's been a long ride and for a while I gave up on this story! Thank you for patiently and faithfully putting up with me! I truly hope I gave Galen Marek an ending worthy of him and the Force Unleashed games!

Thank you all again!