Prologue: Saving Princess Leia[]
In the conference room on the Tantive IV, three defenders of the now Old Republic sat in silence. Padmé Amidala had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl, and had died shortly thereafter. The medical droids, who had never seen a Human before, claimed that she had died of a broken heart. Obi-Wan Kenobi knew better than to believe that Padmé would have given up just like that. It was an outrage, though it was one he would have to deal with. He had more important things to worry about.
He turned his gaze down to a small object that Padmé had put in his hands. He had seen her wearing it on many occasions, though he had never thought to ask her what it was. He had always assumed it was just another piece of jewelry, though that opinion changed when she placed the object in his hands. He could not believe that someone would have used up their remaining strength on their deathbed to hand off a piece of jewelry unless it truly meant something special.
As he turned his gaze upwards, he noticed that Master Yoda and Bail Organa were not having an easy time dealing with the recent events either. Obi-Wan couldn’t blame them, as everything that they had spent their lives defending had been taken away by the simple words of a petty and cruel dictator. Obi-Wan caught Yoda watching him study the small, wood carved object, obviously trying to see if Obi-Wan had figured out what it was.
“She put this in my hand,” Obi-Wan said, “and I don’t even know what it is.”
“Precious to her, it must have been,” Yoda said remorsefully. “Kept in your safekeeping, perhaps it should be.”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said nodding his head. “Maybe that would be best.”
Yoda took a moment to try to take in the events of the recent days. Thousands of his fellow Jedi Knights and Jedi Masters had fallen under the Executive Order 66 and he could not help but blame himself. Not even five hours earlier, he had told an old friend just that, though his old friend told him that it was not his fault. It was the fault of a stagnant tradition dating back thousands of years, and many Jedi had contributed to it. Yoda could only go forward and attempt to fix the many mistakes the Jedi had made.
“Hidden, safe, the children must be kept,” Yoda finally said.
“We must take them somewhere the Sith will not sense their presence,” Obi-Wan said as he nodded in agreement. We should split them up. Even if the Sith find one, the other may survive. I can take the boy. Master Yoda, you can take the girl. We can hide them away and keep them safe until we’re ready to train them as Anakin should have been trained.”
“No,” Yoda said.
The aging Jedi’s bluntness took both Obi-Wan and Bail by surprise. It had seemed obvious to Obi-Wan that they would each need to take one of the children so that they could be trained in the ways of the Jedi. That way, they would be able to rise up and, if they were lucky, defeat Darth Vader and the emperor. However, Yoda clearly had a different opinion on the matter.
“But how are they to learn the self-discipline a Jedi needs,” Obi-Wan asked. “How are they to master the skills of the Force?”
“Jedi training,” Yoda told him, “the sole source of self-discipline is not. When right is the time for skills to be taught, to us the Living Force will bring them. Until then, wait we will, and watch and learn.”
Bail had listened to them intently, trying to make sense of what they were saying. However, he knew very little about the ways of the Jedi and even less about their training practices. Though he did not know what the Living Force was or how it could bring the children to the two Jedi in the future, Bail knew that he could care for one of them. It was then that he decided to speak up and say what would change his life forever.
“Forgive me, masters,” Bail said. “I know little about the Force, but I do know something of love. The queen and I have always talked of adopting a baby girl. If you have no objections, I would like to take Leia to Alderaan and raise her as our daughter. No one would think to look for her there. She would be loved with us.”
“No happier fate could a child receive,” Yoda told him. “With our blessing, and that of the Force, let Leia be your daughter.”
Obi-Wan nodded and smiled in agreement and watched as Bail’s smile grew. A few hours earlier, he could not imagine that Bail had thought he would be getting a daughter sooner than he ever expected to. However, after the events of the day, Bail offering to adopt Leia gave him a sorely needed sign of comfort and hope for the future. Though he did not trust most politicians, he knew he could at least trust one.
“Thank you, masters,” Bail joyfully said. “No harm will come to her.”
He intended to uphold that promise until he drew his final breath. He knew full well that despite how important Leia would be to him, she would be even more important to the overall rebellion efforts that were to come. She was the daughter of Anakin Skywalker and she had the powers passed down to her from the man who was said to be a prophetic savior and the most powerful Jedi Knight in history. He had no choice but to keep her as safe as he could until she was ready to accept her destiny and quite possibly become a Jedi Knight.
After contacting his wife and seeing Obi-Wan and Yoda off, Bail felt alone. Despite having a new daughter and being surrounded by crew members and his two new droids, he had never felt more alone than he did at that moment. There were very few people who could say that they were disloyal to the new way of life that the galaxy would have to face, which made him feel as if he were an outcast. Soon, however, he would return home and would not have to feel such feelings hopefully for quite a long time.
As he walked down the shimmering white hallways, Artoo Detoo and See Threepio, the droids belonging to Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala, respectfully, stepped out of a room and followed close behind him. He smiled as he overheard the protocol droid making sarcastic remarks to his astro-droid friend, and he hoped that he would not lose his peculiar charm when the viceroy did what he had to do. As he approached Raymus Antilles, he had a sense of regret.
“Captain Antilles,” Bail called out.
“Yes, your highness,” Antilles asked as he turned around to face the senator.
“I’m placing these droids under your care,” Bail told him. “Treat them well, clean them up. They belong to my new daughter.”
“How lovely,” Threepio shouted joyfully. “His daughter is the child of Master Anakin and Miss Padmé. I can hardly wait to tell her all about them. I’m sure she’ll be very proud.”
“Oh,” Bail said as he remembered what else he had to do, “and have the protocol droids mind wiped.”
“What,” Threepio asked, taken aback as Artoo beeped in laughter. “Oh no...”
As the vessel landed softly in the docking bay at the royal palace, Raymus Antilles could not help but worry at what was to come. His sister and brother-in-law had adopted the daughter of the late Senator Amidala, presumably so that she would not have to be put up for adoption into a strange household, and a new emperor had risen to power. He had seen more in the recent days than most people did in a lifetime, and it was not something he could say he was proud to have lived through.
Antilles led the two droids he had been tasked with caring for through the docking port and into the nearby control room. After he had been given the order to wipe the protocol droid’s memory, he seemed to almost regret it. See Threepio, despite being mechanical, seemed almost sentient. No Alderaanian would ever condone the wiping of a sentient beings memory unless the situation absolutely called for it, though as the droid continued to go on about Skywalker and Amidala his remorse turned into a sense a relief.
It was saddening, though, to know that one who knew so much about the war and what led to it would lose that information, though perhaps it was for the best. So many terrible deeds had been committed and so many people, including his own loved ones, had been betrayed by men they once called friends and colleagues. Despite not being optimistic about what the future held, he knew that even in the deepest night there were those that dreamed of dawn.
On the balcony of the royal quarters in the palace, there were two people who could see dawn approaching, though they knew it was very far off. Bail held the infant Princess Leia in his arms, the child he had saved from a life of loneliness, and wished that the young Luke was able to be with his sister. However, as he handed his daughter to his queen, he knew that what they had done was for the best.
One day, he knew that Leia would tell her story and tell the galaxy about the good that he had done for her, about how much her adopted parents loved and cared for her. Her uplifting tale would be in stark contrast to the story of love and loss, brotherhood and betrayal, courage and sacrifice and the death of dreams that preceded it. While the recent story had been one about the blurred light between the best and the worst of Humanity and the story of the end of an age, hers would be about the dawn of a new day.
The Old Republic would always be a Republic of legend, one that spanned the millennia through space and time, but his dreams of a New Republic would become manifest through his daughter. He could not have wished for a greater destiny for his daughter. As night fell on civilization itself, he could not have wished for a greater destiny for the people of the Old Republic either.
A new beginning was ushered in on that very balcony.
Chapter 1: Invasion of Alderaan[]
For over a thousand generations, peopled had referred to Alderaan as the “Shining Star” of the Core Worlds. It was a planet where people commonly became preoccupied with the peace and beauty, where they considered art and learning to be their favorite pastimes. Citizens of the galaxy near and far all agreed that one would have to travel halfway across the galaxy simply to find a plant even remotely similar to Alderaan.
As with anything, however, beneath her beauty was a past that had been shrouded in darkness. Many of the galaxy’s worst nightmares had been born on the planet, most notably Adena and Ulic Qel-Droma. Yet, with every shred of darkness, there was a glimmer of hope and peace. Ussej Padric Bac, one who had disappeared long before the rise of the Galactic Empire, had been born to the prestigious political Bac family before becoming a member of the Jedi Order. Though he had been a member of the old Sith Empire as well, he had redeemed himself in the eyes of the galaxy.
Alderaan was also one of the founding members of the Old Republic. Emperor Organa had appointed Admiral Jonathan Bac to be the ambassador to the Coalition of Planets, the federation that had given birth to the Old Republic, and together they helped draft the Old Republic Charter. After the Unification War ended, Admiral Bac was the first to sign the charter and was elected to be the first Supreme Chancellor.
The Old Republic eventually rotted away through corruption and bureaucracy and gave way to the new order, created by Emperor Palpatine. Alderaan had strongly opposed the Military Creation Act before the outbreak of the Clone War, but the planet as a whole remained loyal to the Old Republic during the time of turmoil. As a sign of good will, Alderaan permitted refugees and exiles from worlds occupied by the Confederacy of Independent Systems to reside n the peaceful planet, thus being one of the main worlds of the Refugee Relief Movement.
Once the Clone War ended and the Jedi Knights were exterminated, Alderaan dismantled its weapons and security forces as a sign of good faith towards the new emperor and his feared Clonetrooper brigades. Shortly thereafter, anti-imperial protests plagued the planet, thus giving weight to the emperor’s claims that the Royal House of Alderaan was not all that it seemed.
When the Alliance to Restore the Republic was officially formed, without a formal declaration of rebellion, many brave sons and daughters of Alderaan volunteered to sacrifice their lives in the hopes of preserving democracy and freedom in the galaxy. Leaders such as Bail Organa, the First Viceroy and Prince Consort of Alderaan, and Chandrillan Senator Mon Mothma took that as a sign of what the future could potentially hold for the small band of rebels.
Seventeen years after he watched as liberty died to thunderous applause, Bail Organa sat on the highest balcony of the royal palace and watched as the sun rose gently over Lake Aldera at the edge of the prestigious University of Alderaan. The early morning rays reflected off of the shimmering water and the bright, white towers of the noble institution. Citizens of Alderaan had flocked to the area many times in the morning just to catch a glimpse of the sun rising over the shores. Taking in its beauty was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience for many.
Bail watched the early morning travelers, envying them. Though he was a respected former senator, the viceroy of an entire world and the consort of the queen, there were times when the responsibility of waging a guerilla war seemed as if it was too much to bear. Although he was a man in a high position, he still admired the beauty of his surroundings. He saw it every morning, though he always found something new to admire.
The aging former senator had risen earlier than usual, just as he had been doing for the previous few days, leaving his beloved wife Breha asleep in their bed. He leaned over the balcony to watch as the onlookers watched him and smiled, though he did feel a slight pain in his back. He was no longer the youthful senator he once was, though that did not make him feel any less important. As a man nearing the age of sixty standard years, his age combined with the stresses of his position had grayed his hair and brought out some wrinkles, though he still felt as if he could pull the ears off of a Gundark. Only an experience would prove him right, though he did not exactly pray for such an occasion to arise.
He sat upon the same spot on the balcony that he always did, at least for the past seventeen years. It was in that spot in which he first introduced his adopted daughter to her mother. He prayed to whatever higher power existed that his planet would be kept safe from the forces of the Empire, though he could not help but selfishly pray for the safety of his daughter over most everything else. If she were to be captured by the Empire, he could only imagine the consequences that it would bring.
Before the sleep had completely been wiped away from her eyes, Breha had dressed in a soft ceremonial robe and stepped out onto the balcony. The cool and refreshing early morning breeze hit her soft, tanned face and her brown hair flowed freely in the breeze. The light, silver streaks in her hair reflected the light of the sun, showing her aging figure, though she was only forty-five standard years of age.
Her beauty had held with her since she was very young, and it was within her eyes that her strength and love for her people burned brightly. As she looked to her right, she saw her husband sitting in his favorite spot, his face showing a great deal of worry as if the weight of the very world was resting itself upon his shoulders. She moved to his side, smiling a comforting smile as she leaned in to kiss him.
“You woke early again,” she said, her voice calm and comforting. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” he lied as he attempted to fake a smile. His lying about his feelings had become more frequent in recent weeks, as the pain of knowing that something was wrong felt too strong to share with another person, even if that person was the woman he loved.
“I want you to be honest with me,” she said as she sat down beside him, taking his hands into her own. “I can help you if you’ll let me.”
The warmth of her touch comforted him beyond anything else. For so long, he had promised himself that he would not share his ominous feeling with her. She had enough to worry about, what with the emperor’s thugs constantly throwing out accusations about rebellion and weapons of mass destruction. However, her persistence had finally paid off. He could no longer hide his feeling from her.
“Something’s coming,” he told her after his concession. “I don’t know what it is but in my thoughts and my dreams I can see that a storm is approaching. We need to be ready.”
Breha had not seen her husband in such a worried state since before the outbreak of the Clone War. He had told her that, based upon Padmé Amidala’s findings, there could be no doubt that the Commerce Guilds and the Corporate Alliance had formed an alliance with Count Dooku and the Trade Federation and were preparing to go to war with the Republic. She had reminded him that there had not been a full-scale war since just before the Ruusan Reformation, though her comforting reminder proved to be false. She held her tongue, not wanting to be wrong again.
As he turned away from her, he looked out over the snow-capped mountains to admire their beauty. However, that beauty had been tainted by tainted by the arrival of storm clouds looming in the distance. He could not help but crack a faint smile, as the arrival of the clouds symbolized, to him, the possibility of a coming struggle. He had no doubt that the Empire was preparing to wage a war against him, and the storm clouds only furthered that worry.
Bail turned back towards the doorway to the balcony as he heard footsteps running through the halls, the footsteps coming at a troubling speed. When the figure in the shadows of the corridor rounded the corner, he realized that it was the aging Captain Colton, the veteran pilot of the Tantive IV during the final days of the Clone War. He smiled as he saw his old friend, though the smile quickly disappeared as he saw the distinct look of distress on the old mans face.
“Captain,” Bail said as he stood up from the balcony, “what is it?”
As the captain stopped, he took a moment to catch his breath. Leaning forward and placing his hands on his knees as he tried to regulate his breathing, he realized that running throughout the palace the way he did was not the wisest of ideas for an old man. However, he did what he had to do, despite knowing that he was no longer a young cadet ready to run into battle.
“We’ve just received a distress call, your highnesses,” Colton told them.
“From who,” Breha asked.
“The Tantive IV,” Colton said. “She says she’s under attack by Darth Vader’s fleet.”
Bail clenched his fists together at the mentioning of the name. The Lord of the Sith had been a thorn in his side ever since the Empire rose. Though he was one of only three people alive who knew Vader’s true identity, he could not say so, despite the leverage it could give him. He had watched for seventeen years as Vader’s forced raped, pillaged and plundered defenseless worlds all in the name of “galactic security”. The term was such a joke to him; he could not even begin to describe it. At least he had some comfort in the fact that Leia was no longer on Alderaan, but rather that she was safe with Mon Mothma on Dantooine.
“Where’s the ship now,” Breha asked.
“Making her way into orbit now,” Colton responded.
“Breha,” Bail said, turning to his wife, “you need to get to the command bunker right away.”
“Aren’t you coming,” she asked.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Bail said, trying to comfort her.
“Viceroy,” Colton interrupted, “I strongly advise that you come with us.”
“I can’t,” Bail told him, “at least not yet.”
Bail watched as Colton began to object once again, though he quickly gave up whatever he was preparing to say. Colton had known Bail for far too long to think that he would simply run away during a fight, and that was a quality that the captain had once told him that he admired. As much as Bail wanted to agree with him, however, in his heart he knew that there was only one reason why Vader would travel to Alderaan. It was the moment that the viceroy had dreaded for seventeen years. Darth Vader, the man formerly known as Anakin Skywalker, had arrived to claim back his daughter.
The shimmering blue-white planet of Alderaan emerged from a total eclipse, her moons glowing against the shimmering stars. Small clouds moved across her surface as if they were podracers on their final lap, suggesting that a storm was approaching the capital. Faster than the very speed of sound itself, a shadow cast itself over the watery world as a tiny blue and white cylindrical spacecraft raced through space. She was the Tantive IV, the pride and joy of the royal family.
The small vessel had seen her fair share of mayhem and destruction in its nearly twenty years of service. After being built during the beginning of the Clone War by the Corellian Engineering Corporation, the ship became the consular ship for then-Senator Organa. At the close of the war, the ship became the rescue vessel for the famed Jedi Masters Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi, who were presumed to have been killed after the emperor ordered the systematic execution of every last member of the Jedi Order.
Raymus Antilles, the captain of the vessel, had heard rumors of a secret meeting between the senator and the two Jedi Masters in the conference room before they had returned the body of Padmé Amidala back to her home planet of Naboo, though he did not have the slightest clue as to what it was about. It was only after they had departed Naboo did Senator Organa assign two of Amidalas droids, See Threepio and Artoo Detoo, to the rookie captain.
Behind the ship came a far more imposing and ominous one, a vessel that blocked out the very star of the system itself. It was that of the Imperial Star Destroyer Avenger, as it had flown ahead of the Imperial Fleet in an effort to catch the diminutive royal vessel. Thousands upon thousands of deadly laser bolts flew out of the front of the Star Destroyer, causing the small ship to take on a significant amount of battle damage.
Within the Tantive IV, a large explosion rocked its very halls as the two faithful droid companions, Artoo and Threepio, struggled to make their way across the gray metal floor that was laid out just below the pristine white walls that shook and bounced all around them. Both robots were old and battered, both having seen their fair share of action over the years.
Artoo was a small, claw-armed tripod. The Astrometric Droid was made of computer lights surrounding a radar eye that sat in the middle of the front side of his dome-shaped head. Threepio, on the other hand, was a tall and slender protocol droid of Human proportions. He had a gleaming, bronze-like metallic surface that was a great deal more atheistically pleasing than the other Humanoid-looking models that had come before him.
“This is the captain,” Antilles’ voice said over the intercom. “Prepare for an emergency landing. Repeat, prepare for an emergency landing.”
Before the brother of the queen could finish his short announcement, the small vessel entered the atmosphere and began its descent. As the flames of the descent dissipated, the captain found a sense of relief as he knew it would only be a matter of minutes until the ship touched down. However, he also knew that an imperial garrison would not be far behind. They were not interested in the small ship, but rather the information that Antilles could give them.
“Set us down in the fields on the west side of the city,” Antilles told his pilot. “We’ll be able to make it to the command bunker easier that way.”
“Aye, captain,” the pilot responded.
Within the ships halls, the two droids scurried along the passageway towards the Droid Holding Area only to find the lifeless bodies of the crewmembers that had been killed by the fiery explosions of the battle. Threepio, however, could not help but be pleased when he felt the ship set down on their home planet.
“Finally,” Threepio shouted. “We’ve finally outrun those imperial murderers!”
However, Threepio’s joy quickly turned to outright terror as an ominously imposing roar could be heard directly outside the vessel. The roar, loud enough to mute out the sounds of screams and explosions throughout the ship, suddenly stopped and gave way to what he believed was the sound of exterior hatches opening. Threepio moved around the holding area in a panic, but quickly followed Artoo as the small astro-droid made his way out.
“Now just where do you think you’re going,” Threepio asked, only to have his questioned answered by an unflattering pattern of beeping. “How dare you call me a coward!”
As they left the holding area, it became clear to them that an order had been issued to all crewmen telling them to abandon the defenseless vessel. All of the exterior ramps had opened and Antilles feverishly searched the ship for any remaining survivors, refusing to leave his vessel until he knew the surviving crew members had escaped. Artoo and Threepio made their way through the empty halls to the nearest exit-ramp and watched as Antilles helped the last of the remaining crew members step down.
“Oh, Captain Antilles,” Threepio shouted. “Captain Antilles! What should we do?”
“Get down to the bunker as quickly as you can,” Antilles told him as he helped the droids down the steep and narrow ramp.
“We’re doomed,” Threepio sadly said as he made his way onto the lush, green grass.
Artoo slid down the ramp and made his way to the side of his trusted companion. They looked behind the small vessel and finally saw the source of the crews terror: an Imperial Attack Cruiser had landed only a few meters beside the small craft. Imperial Stormtroopers stormed off of the cruiser’s exterior ramps, some making their way into the Tantive IV to search for survivors to interrogate while most chased the escaped crew members into the capital.
As the battle approached the edge of the city, hundreds of its citizens flocked to their balconies to try to catch a glimpse of what had happened. None of them, unless they had moved from a battle-scared planet, had ever been in a similar situation. As soon as the imperial garrisons began to roll through the streets, they knew full well that it was better to be inside than outside.
The bridge of the attack cruiser Liberty bustled with activity as the battle within the fields made its way into the city streets. Lights flashed and alarms sounded, but the imperial bridge crew remained focused on their duties and the task at hand, all while watching as more and more troops stepped onto the grassy fields. None felt remorse for what they were doing, as it was all for the good and the glory of the Galactic Empire and its ruler.
The crew turned their heads to the rear of the bridge as they heard the sound of the turboshaft sliding open. After the door shot upwards, the figure imposing figure of Kane Starkiller, the Dark Commander of Darth Vader’s branch of the Dark Guardians of Lettow, was revealed. The dark-skinned Human stood tall and robust, an imposing figure to many of the galaxy’s citizens. As the crew realized that he had stepped onto the bridge and began making his way to the command station at the foot of the large window that stretched across the entire bridge, they quickly got back to work so they would not have to risk punishment.
The commander moved to the window so he could witness the battle unfolding for himself and took note of the bridge crew that watched him with a profound sense of curiosity. It did not surprise him, considering his mysterious past. It seemed to him as if no one in the galaxy knew where he had come from, including himself.
He had been unable to remember the vast majority of his before he had become a member of the Lettow, though the two Lords of the Sith had told him that he had suffered severe head injuries when the Jedi Knights attempted to destroy his homeworld. That led him to form a grave hatred for any that had belonged to the dead order, and even those who chose to support it disgusted him immensely.
With his family dead and his homeworld unknown, he had nothing left to comfort him other than the heat of battle. It was one of the many reasons that he had chosen to command the battle on Alderaan, as was the reason he chose any assignment that involved panic and bloodshed. However, more than anything else, he had chosen the assignment because he wished to bring about the destruction of every last member of the rebellions that had sprung up in the prior years.
“Private,” Starkiller shouted to the young officer that had approached him, “signal Lord Vader on the Avenger. The battle has moved into the streets and it will not be long before the weapons of mass destruction are found.”
“Aye, Commander,” the private said before saluting. The young officer turned back to face his console and sent a message to the Sith Lord.
Starkiller turned back to the window and watched as the battle continued. He could not help but grin as his troops began to quickly overwhelm the resistance that Alderaan attempted to throw at them. He was desperate to join the fray in the streets, though he knew that Darth Vader would have his head on his lightsaber if Starkiller was to go in before him.
That was the man that Kane Starkiller was, and phenomenal warrior and no doubt one of the best the Empire had to offer. His belief was that war was the only means of achieving any form of victory over an enemy and that hiding in the shadows only led to death and disgrace. Believing that negotiation and diplomacy were for weak old men in the Imperial Senate, he had vowed to fight until the bitter end. He had sworn that if he ever became a lone warrior facing an army of thousands, that battle would not cease until he fell.
Although he was a Dark Commander within the Lettow, only of only two, as well as a member of the Imperial Council, there were still times that he wished he could have been a young boy on his homeworld, whatever that homeworld was. He could still remember brief flashes and other brief events of his life before joining the Empire, such as the day he saw bodies lying all around him during the Clone War.
Starkiller was only fifteen years old when the battle reached his home and trapped him beneath a pile of rubble. A black-gloved hand had reached for him and the young boy held on for as long as he could. When the smoke cleared around him, he finally saw the face of his rescuer. That face belonged to a Jedi Knight, one who introduced himself as Anakin Skywalker.
Anakin carried him to safety and stayed with him to ensure that he was safe. When the Republic left, so did Anakin. The young boy begged him to stay, telling him the battle had taken away the only family he had. The noble knight told him that he would return to see him one day, though he never did. Even though Anakin had left, he had always been remembered as a sort of father figure for Starkiller.
Almost twenty years later, Starkiller did not know what happened to Anakin Skywalker, though he could only assume that he was executed as a traitor after the emperor gave the executive order. Under Vader’s training, Starkiller had grown to hate the Jedi Order, though he could not bring himself to hate the brief memories of Anakin. The man who saved his life had always been a figure of importance in the back of his mind, though he did not know why.
When the Galactic Civil War broke out, he could remember being taught to love war and to live by its teachings rather than believe that it was used as a last resort. He was given more and more challenging assignments after being brought into the Lettow until the day that he was finally given the rank that he deserved: Dark Commander. He also found that he had an equal, a woman who had been appointed to serve as the Dark Commander of the emperor’s branch of the Dark Guardians of Lettow.
That was Mara Jade, a woman the same age has him. From the day they were promoted, she had done nothing but attempt to prove that she was better than him, even though he knew it was next to impossible to achieve that goal. Though they did not see each other often, aside from the occasional crossing of paths and the rare council sessions, their hatred for one another burned hotter than the fiery rivers of Mustafar.
Despite their hatred, there had been times that they turned their hatred into a burning passion filled with nothing but desire and sexual romances. Despite the passion, it was always short-lived and it always transformed itself back in a burning sea of hate and rage. Starkiller vowed that he would one day kill Mara Jade simply as a way of showing her how much more powerful he truly was.
As he brought his attention back to the present, Starkiller watched as the battle continued making its way into the streets of the capital city of Aldera. He watched on the viewscreen that projected the battlefield images, hoping to find Organa somewhere within the confusion. Capturing the viceroy was Darth Vader’s goal for the mission, though Starkiller cared little about the Lord of the Sith’s goals. His only goal was participating in the battle and ensuring that it brought about success. Success for him meant a triumphant victory over the pathetic band of rebels that had become a small thorn in the Empire’s side. Rebellions had been put down before, but he always found that trying to put down the so called “Alliance to Restore the Republic” was a great deal harder.
Still, there’s nothing more exciting than war, Starkiller thought to himself. It’s the fear of the people that drives us to push forward, for fear attracts the fearful. It attracts the strong, the weak, the innocent and the corrupt. Fear is my ally.
He could not help but let a faint smile subtly make its way onto his lips as he thought about the worlds of the fallen Sith Lord Darth Maul. He had been told and had heard the words many times in his career from holo-recordings, though as much as he respected Maul’s beliefs and strengths he could not believe he had allowed himself to be destroyed by a mere Jedi Padawan. It truly was astonishing to him.
Like Darth Maul, Starkiller’s ascension to the role of Dark Apprentice of the Sith would come sooner than he expected. He knew full well that Vader was planning on killing the emperor to take his place as the Dark Lord of the Sith. Starkiller would undoubtedly be his Dark Apprentice and would be given the traditional honor of destroying the upper hierarchy of the emperor’s Lettow, namely Mara Jade. He vowed long before Vader had revealed parts of his plans to do anything to secure the right to that moment.
Darth Vader stood patiently aboard the bridge of the Avenger, waiting to hear from his trusted right arm about the progress of the battle taking place on the planet below. The dark one was pleased knowing that Organa would soon be in his grasp, therefore leading him to his true target: the Princess of Alderaan, the daughter of the man once known as Anakin Skywalker. Before he had turned to the Dark Side, Anakin knew that his wife was pregnant, but after what he had done to her on Mustafar...
He and the emperor had been under the impression that when Padmé had died, so did the child she had been carrying for nearly nine months. It was not until fifteen years later that he began having suspicions that the Princess of Alderaan was Anakin’s daughter. He had met her briefly on Coruscant with her father and he immediately recognized the strong Force signature surrounding her. To Vader, she looked and even acted like Padmé, so the possibility was hard to ignore. When the presence of the Force surrounding the girl seemingly disappeared, Vader could only assume that it had simply been his inner demons longing for the companionship of the child he had never known.
When he had met her briefly again, the Force signature had returned. He had tried very hard since his previous encounter with her to suppress the demons of his past within him, so he could not accept that they were misleading him again. He checked the medical database on Coruscant and learned that the girl had been adopted by the Organas. After aggressively negotiating with a few unlikely sources to help him, he was able to obtain a DNA sample from the princess and compared it to Padmés and his own. It was a positive match.
When he received the DNA report from the laboratory, he began formulating his plot to overthrow the emperor. He had not thought of performing such an act ever since his gruesome mutilation at the hands of Obi-Wan, though the prospect of having a Skywalker fight alongside of him was too promising to simply give up. There was no one better equipped to help him, and if he was to overthrow the emperor then he would need all of the power he could get.
There was only one man that stood in the way of his daughter becoming his apprentice, that man being Starkiller. The Dark Commander naturally assumed that if the emperor were to be killed and Vader took his place, he would ascend to the position of Dark Apprentice. Vader trusted him somewhat, though he would never dare refer to him as a friend. In the end, Starkiller was used as a tool. It was what he was, for lack of a better word, designed to do. There were ways, of course, with dealing with the obstacle that he presented.
“Lord Vader,” Captain Lorth Needa shouted, breaking the Sith Lord’s concentration. As Vader turned around, the tall yet thin officer saluted. Needa had been a member of the Grand Army of the Republic as a naval officer and commanded the flagship of the Old Republic during the Battle of Coruscant. He had been proud to lead the Republic efforts during the battle that brought about the end of major combat operations in the Clone War, though he was even prouder to serve under Darth Vader in the Grand Army of the Empire.
“Yes, captain,” Vader responded after turning to face the captain, “what is it?”
“We’ve just received a message from Commander Starkiller,” Needa told him. “The battle has reached the city streets. They are preparing to move in on the palace now.”
“Good,” Vader replied, turning away from the captain and heading towards the turboshaft.
“My lord,” Needa said, “may I inquire as to where you are going?”
“To oversee Organa’s interrogation,” Vader told him. “Alert Commander Starkiller to prepare for my arrival.”
Captain Needa nodded and saluted before turning back to his men, though he was not entirely comfortable with someone as important as Darth Vader participating in the battle. Even with all of the powers of the Force on his side, Vader was still vulnerable. Needa knew it and he could only hope that the Dark Apprentice did as well. After all, Vader was the one who was forced to live in a bio-mechanical suit. Needa could only assume that Vader knew of the drawbacks of such suits, though he knew full well that the arrogance that all Sith Lords possessed could undoubtedly cloud Vader’s better judgment.
As the door to the turboshaft slid shut and carried Darth Vader towards the docking bay, the bridge crew let out a loud sigh of relief. The very presence of the Dark Apprentice of the Sith made them all fear for their lives, as Vader had a reputation for rewarding even the smallest of mistakes with the harshest forms of punishment. All they could do was wonder and hope that the battle brought about the desired outcome.
Further Chapters[]
After Chapter 1, the novel was cancelled. The author decided to reboot the entire Star Wars Saga, beginning with Star Wars: Episode I - The Chosen One.