(AN: Wow, I must be doing something right with this story.)
(Hopefully I can keep that momentum going for the rest of this story.)
The one place that Bail Organa was free from interference happened to be his apartment suite outside of the Senate House. Since he had arrived at night, he had been given the rest of the night off and left to sleep what was left of the night away. It seemed that he hadn't slept rightly since the 'Jedi Rebellion', as Palpatine had put it.
Early that morning, before Coruscant's sun rose to illuminate the concrete and durasteel jungle of the Republic...no, the Imperial capital, Bail Organa was roused from his sleep by the ringing of his communicator.
"Bail here." he said.
"Retrac, sir." Sheltay's voice sounded on the other end. "I found a potential customer for your project, and I've forwarded a holo-vid call from your wife to your room."
"Thank you, Sheltay." he returned. "I'll see you shortly." He clicked off the communicator and walked over to his desk, clicking the flashing red light. A holographic image, half a meter high, of Breha Organa materialized on his desk. It was Breha Organa.
"Your Highness," he greeted, bowing before the image.
"This isn't a formal call, Bail," the image said. "For now, I am your wife."
"But you're also Queen of Alderaan." Bail returned.
"Right now," she replied. "I'm concerned for your well-being, my love. I've heard the rumors of the dissolution of the Republic, and the organization of some Imperial dictatorship regime."
"It may not be as bad as it sounds, Breha." Bail said calmly. "The Senate is still in power, we can use that against Palpatine's new regime as best we can. There's still hope."
He didn't believe there was much hope.
"Even so," Breha continued. "I've been longing to see you, and you haven't been back to Alderaan in a while."
"I have one more assignment," Bail answered. "Then I'll be back home. I promise."
"Be safe, my love."
"I will."
The image faded and Bail Organa sighed. It had indeed been quite a while since he had seen his beloved queen.
A few minutes later, while the lights of Coruscant still illuminated the dark skyscrapers and towers of the city, Bail had woken Captain Antilles and Colton and told them to get the Tantive ready for take-off.
En route to the landing platform, Bail was delivering last-minute instructions to Sheltay over his com-link.
"You're to stay here as my attache," he said. "Anything that's directed for me will go to you, agreed?"
He could hear a sigh on the other end. "Agreed."
"Sheltay, I know this is tough for you. You want to be back home with your husband: I hear you and he had a daughter."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, find me another aide as talented and trust-worthy as you and I'll give you leave to return to Alderaan to visit them."
"Thank you, sir."
The shuttle landed at the platform, and, much to Bail's surprise and pleasure, the Tantive IV was ready for take-off. He almost ran up the gangplank into his corvette. Once inside, he made his way to the cockpit and strapped himself in.
Take-off was usually rather rigorous, for it involved getting enough thrust to achieve escape velocity and therefore release the ship from the planet's gravitational pull. Once in space, the artificial gravity would kick in and any passengers on board the Tantive IV would be free to walk about the halls.
Once they left Coruscant's atmosphere, they were ready to undertake their journey.
"Our heading, sir?" Antilles queried.
"Cartao system." Bail stated.
Stars stretched into lines, followed by a vortex of mottled space as the Tantive IV shot off into hyperspace.
In a sector of Coruscant, a great ways off from the Republic Senate House and the Jedi Temple - what was left of it - thousands of worker drones hovered around the mammoth structure that was being raised up around this portion of the city, It was a dark structure, all made of dark dura-steel metal, that made it look imposing even among the imposing structures of Coruscant.
On the top of a nearby building complex, a dark shadow of a figure stood, gazing up at the facility with black, insect-like eyes. The wind howled fiercely, blowing the shadow's long, black cape like a macabre battle standard, and obscuring the rhythmic sound of his electronic breathing. In the figure's black-gloved hand, a holographic image of a hooded and shrouded figure loomed.
"This is the site, my friend." the image said. "Here the people of the Empire shall come forth to worship their new master."
"Why is this needful, master?" the deep, mechanical voice of the shadowy figure asked. "The Senate House..."
"Is a sign of the corrupt and impotent Republic of the past," the image finished. "There must be a new palace, presided over only by one - one whose destiny it is to rule."
"I understand, my master."
The image faded, and the shadowy figure was left there alone to gaze up at the mammoth structure. For a palace, it certainly outmatched the grandiose structures that he had once seen. The Imperial Palace, it would be named. It would be a structure of the new order, a symbol of the overwhelming might of the Empire.
The shadowy figure simply stood there, gazing at it. Hatred burned within his heart as surely as the memory of fire crawling up his back had been burned into his memory. Hatred at the betrayal he had faced, hatred for what the Republic had failed to do. But he was angry as well.
Angry that the Emperor had given him, Darth Vader, the task of overseeing the construction of the Imperial Palace.
He wanted to be out there, hunting down the Jedi.
(AN: I hope you caught what I put in there. It's a reference to some EU stuff that I found as a means of, well, if you've been paying attention, you can guess what's going to happen with that. I'll have to work around making a 'dead clone', but that won't be too hard, I guess.)
(Thanks once again for all the reviews and alerts this story has been given)