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STAR WARS: DARK EMPEROR by BRENDON WAHLBERG
Sate Pestage finally finished
meticulously cleaning the dust and broken glass from his austere quarters in
the Palace. A housekeeping droid could have done it for him, but he preferred
to do it by hand. It gave him something to occupy his thoughts while his Master
remained in isolation from him for three days. His only other option was to
face the hordes of inquiries regarding the Emperor's health after the Palace
explosions, and he just couldn't do that. Beyond issuing a statement that the
Emperor was unhurt, there was nothing he could tell them, and their worried
questions only made Pestage focus on his own worries.
Pestage had been afraid of
losing his Master to an unstoppable physical decline for the past year, and
now, to make matters worse, a dark Jedi had struck at Palpatine in the throne
room itself. Pestage's spies had ferreted out the name of this Jedi...Ashka
Boda. Besides a deep outrage, Pestage also felt a nagging sense of recognition
of that name. He finally placed the memory as dating back to the traumatic day
when he had lost his son. He had saved the life of an injured Jedi named Ashka
Boda on that same day. Was it really the same man, who now repaid Pestage's
kindness with this horrific violence? If so, then Pestage regretted what he had
done. He would never have rescued the man, had he known it would someday
endanger his Master, his Emperor, his...son. He would have left Boda as broken
as the rare vase in his refuse bin.
Pestage realized that Boda's
return gave him another piece of evidence that Palpatine was in fact his lost
son...but as usual, it was not proof. There was no proof to be had, despite all
of Pestage's efforts. But the Grand Vizier refused to let that fact undercut
his loyalty to the Master. There was no proof because the Emperor simply did
not want Pestage as a father. He wanted him as a Vizier, and that was
enough...because Sate Pestage knew the truth in his heart. He would stay by his
Master's side however he could, and as long as he could. His greatest fear was
that he would live to see his son die before he did.
As Pestage poured glass shards
into the waste container, he heard his comm signal beckoning to him. He found
it to be a message from the Emperor, a single line of text glowing on the
screen. The few words made Pestage's heart beat fast with sudden gratified
relief.
They read:
Everything is going to be all
right, old friend.
Pestage understood what they
meant. The Emperor was going to live, and Pestage was going to stay by his side
for the rest of his life. Pestage's eventual death would separate them someday,
but part of him would live on in his Master. Exhaling a great tension that had
held him for three days, Pestage fell back onto his bed, arms outstretched, a
large smile on his wrinkled face.
Vader turned from his worktable
where he was adjusting his lightsaber, at the hesitant knock on his door.
"Come in," he said,
already aware of who it was. The door swung open, and Mara Jade entered the
small room. She was wearing some kind of formal gown, the color of her eyes. It
made her look older, which was probably the intended effect. She had come,
perhaps, from an Imperial function where her youthful beauty would be on
display. It was part of her cover, Vader knew, to be seen as one of the
Emperor's female trinkets, rather than as an assassin and spy. Mara shifted
nervously in the fancy dress, trying to find the words to begin.
"You wished to see me, Mara
Jade," Vader prompted.
"Yes...I realized I never
thanked you for saving my life."
"It was my duty,"
Vader replied with a slightly impatient tone. "Nothing more."
"But it meant a lot to me,
obviously...and I took it as a sign that you cared about my well being, and my
future. So I came here to ask you if...whether I can continue to learn from
you."
Vader's reply was curt. "The
answer is no, assassin. We were instructed to work together, but that
assignment is now over. We each have our separate jobs to do for our Master.
And I have no time to entertain a student."
"Entertain!" Mara
said, hurt. "You still think of me as a child, don't you? I thought I
earned your respect while we were after Boda."
"You have my respect. Mara
Jade. What you do not want is my wrath. Never forget what I can do to those who
displease me...Emperor or no Emperor. Let Boda be your reminder. Right now, it
displeases me to repeat myself. I work alone, and I take no apprentices. Is
that clear?"
Mara stiffened. "It's
clear, my Lord. I'll be going, now. I'm sorry to have disturbed you." She
turned, and walked out of the chamber, not bothering to shut the door.
Blast Vader, Mara thought as she left. Treating me
like I'm so far beneath him now. The encounter had soured her satisfaction
at having been a heroine a few days ago. She had been a fool to march into
Vader's Castle like that, expecting so much. Still, she regretted that he would
never be her teacher. There was something almost noble about him, that she
wanted to understand better. And she had seen the value of having an ally where
the Emperor was concerned. What she had learned about her Master was all unpleasant.
He was an unpredictable and dangerous man to work for, as Vader seemed to know
well already. Mara knew that she and Vader were both Palpatine's tools.
Separate, they were weaker than they might have been together. She saw Vader,
and recognized the bitter chains of his long servitude. She wondered, then,
what her own service would lead her to. Would she be haunted with regrets, as
Vader was? Mara prayed she wouldn't. The path ahead of her was a long and
dangerous one, and regrets would only weigh her down.
Darth Vader gripped his
lightsaber as he watched Mara Jade leave. The weapon was one he had constructed
at the beginning of his service to the Emperor. Mara was in that position now,
but Vader knew he really could not help her. Despite Vader's honest respect for
the young assassin, he was a loner with his own agenda, and she was his
Master's tool who told Palpatine everything. He could never trust her not to
compromise his plans. He regretted the necessities that kept him alone and
unable to admit anyone else into his dangerous game of ambition, but he had no
choice.
For now, Vader still had his
goals intact. He was no closer to gaining the throne, but with Palpatine dying,
and Boda dead, at least he was not forever prevented from it. However frustrating,
the status quo was better than failure. The Dark Lord of the Sith held on to
his fragile hopes, and tried to put Mara Jade out of his mind.
Gateway is published by Paul Edmund Norman on the first day of each month, and there is at least one Books supplement mid-month every month, see issues for details. Hosting is by Flying Porcupine at www.flyingporcupine.com - and web design by Gateway. Submitting to Gateway: Basically, all you need do is e-mail it along and I'll consider it - it can be any length, if it's very long I'll serialise it, if it's medium-length I'll put it in as a novella, if it's a short story or a feature article it will go in as it comes. Payment is zero, I'm afraid, as I don't make any money from Gateway, I do it all for fun! Should you be kind enough to want to send me books to review, please contact me by e-mail and I will gladly forward you my home address. Meanwhile, here's how to contact me: paulenorman@yahoo.co.uk
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