Star Wars - Ripples of the Void Chapter 4: Long Live the Empire! (Patreon)

Chapter 4: Long Live the Empire!

Mas Amedda paced back and forth nervously in his office, unable to settle down. How could he?! Everything had gone wrong so fast!

At first, it all seemed like their plans had come to fruition! The Jedi were dead, the Separatist leadership eliminated, and the Empire born from the corpse of the Republic!

Yet shortly afterwards, Palpatine had gone to Mustafar to recover Skywalker, and then was killed in an ambush! How?! The Separatists were all supposed to be dead, and the droids shut down with the hidden code inside their programming!

In mere days, what should have been a victory crumbled around him. The Emperor, dead less than a week into his reign. The CIS, which should have been on the verge of breaking, given new life with a new Head of State being elected to replace Dooku and steer them out of the crisis.

The only bright side Mas Amedda could see was that Coruscant was safe, as Palpatine had prepared for a victory parade by recalling all of the officers from the front lines. Right now, hundreds of ships were protecting the planet, though even this silver lining was a double-edged sword.

After all, now that the Emperor was dead, who was going to take over? There had been no lines of succession laid out, as Palpatine had never planned on dying so soon, which left the Senate scrambling to find a successor.

Odds were, the senators and military officers were going to start killing each other for the ‘privilege’ of becoming Emperor in Palpatine’s place. Already, new of ‘mysterious’ accidents claiming the lives of several senators and admirals had reached his ears, and Mas was very worried.

Not just about collateral damage to the citizens or infrastructure, but his position. He’d survived this long by clinging to the backs of stronger, cleverer, men and women. Chancellor Valorum before Palpatine, and Senator Algris of Champala before that, which had allowed him to become a senator himself!

Mas knew he was now in grave danger as without the protection of his patron. He was vulnerable to all of the enemies he’d made climbing the political ladder. Admittedly, he didn’t have many, as he knew better than that, but one did not get far in the Senate without acquiring some foes.

Could he try to claim the position of Emperor in place of Palpatine? Mas thought it over before shaking his head violently, lethorns flapping about.

No, that was foolish. There was a reason Mas had never tried to rise too high, and preferred to stick to the shadows and be the aide to those in power. Those at the top were always fighting to keep the ones directly below them at bay, and the Chagrian knew he lacked the traits and talents necessary to stay one step ahead of those with greater skills and ambition.

In the end, Mas knew that it was safer for him to stick to the sidelines and do the important deeds that keep the bureaucracy running and reap the benefits by staying out of the spotlight. And it had worked, so far.

‘Should I try and throw my lot in with one of the military commanders currently in orbit?’ he mused.

As he thought that, the former Speaker of the Senate and current Grand Vizier nodded to himself. Yes, that was the best thing to do right now. It was the only option that could ensure his continued safety, and let him maintain his position.

‘Who amongst the gathered commanders is the one with the highest chance of successfully taking over?’ Mas wondered to himself.

With new purpose in mind, Mas ceased his pacing and strode over to a console at his desk, through which he pulled up information gleaned from the satellites above Coruscant.

‘Let me see… of the assembled admirals and generals, the one with control over the most military assets is without a doubt Adjutant-General Tarkin,’ Mas thought, a frown coming over his face.

Wilhuff Tarkin’s promotion mere months earlier had kept him on Coruscant when the Fall of the Jedi and the birth of the Empire were carried out, and he had been steadily becoming one of Palpatine’s close inner circle members.

Mas did not know if Tarkin had known about the Sith’s true nature, but as it currently stood, he was the highest ranked officer currently in the system, held the most loyalty from many of the officers and troops, and had experience ruling after his stint as governor of Eriadu.

‘He would make a decent leader and bring much needed stability to the crumbling order,’ the Chagrian mused. ‘I must get in contact with him immediately.’

This was the best way forward. For Coruscant, the Empire, and himself. Mind made up, Mas began to compose a message to send to the Adjutant-General, but was interrupted by the door to his office sliding home and half a dozen Clone Troopers led by Tarkin himself strode inside.

“Tarkin? What is going on?” Mas Amedda uttered, looking up in shock at the intrusion.

“Mas Amedda, you are under arrest for conspiring with the Separatists to assassinate the Emperor,” Tarkin declared, his blaster pistol pointed at Mas Amedda’s chest along with those of the clones. “Do not resist.”

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” the Chagrian exclaimed, taking a step back.

“Your collaboration with the Separatists had been uncovered, Speaker,” Tarkin claimed. “Surrender now, and your trial will be conducted with all the respect a man of your position is due.”

The flash of a stun bolt lashed out and blinded him, and Mas Amedda knew no more as everything went black.

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Tarkin looked down at the crumpled form of the Speaker of the Senate with a look of distaste. He had never liked the blue-skinned alien. Too weak-willed and quick to please and serve. A trait common amongst the Chagrians, but coupled with the greed and self-serving nature of a politician… well, it made for a man – or alien – the human general wouldn’t trust to not betray him if it suited his needs.

‘Not that I think that Amedda actually betrayed Palpatine and was responsible for the emperor’s death, but he will make a sufficient offering to appease the masses, and allow for my own ascension to the throne,’ the Adjutant-General thought to himself.

“Escort the accused to the cells,” Tarkin ordered a moment later, gesturing with his pistol at the fallen body. “And make sure the news is spread across the system: one of the men complicit in Emperor Palpatine’s death has been apprehended.”

“Yes, General,” one of the clones uttered, and two more stepped up to drag Mas Amedda away.

Hearing the dead, monotone voice brought a small frown to Tarkin’s face. Ever since Order 66, the clones had lost all emotions and individual will. Supposedly, they’d return over time, but for now the clones were far too much like droids for his taste.

‘Clone are capable of independent thought and developing strategy on the fly, something droids are incapable of. But now, they are no better than the buckets of bolts they once fought,’ he thought.

And thinking about droids inevitably brought his thoughts back to the present situation. Namely, the CIS being alive and well despite everything that should have been done to remove the threat once and for all.

‘The politicians caused this war to drag on and put us in this quagmire,’ he thought disdainfully. ‘It’s time for the military to show these puffed up porgs what actual leadership looks like.’

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“…and I will not rest until the Secessionist Threat is ended, once and for all!” Wilhuff Tarkin shouted, fist raised to the sky, his crisp black uniform looking properly militaristic with all the shiny medals and badges. The cape was a bit much, though.

Still, the Senate seemed to love it, and they burst into wild applause. How much of that was performative theatre, and how much of it was genuine madness, was sadly unknown.

‘What is happening to the galaxy?’ Senator Bail Organa wondered, staring numbly at the holo-screen that had been presenting the ‘ascension’ of the second Emperor of the Unified Galactic Empire.

He had watched the absolute bantha court that had been Mas Amedda’s trial with morbid fascination, and a hint of schadenfreude, as the Chagarian had been Palpatine’s close advisor and had clearly known far more about the Sith’s plans than anyone else.

Yet any pleasure Bail had felt quickly dried up once Amedda was sentenced to death for ‘conspiracy to assassinate the Emperor’ and then dragged off, and Wilhuff Tarkin had ridden the Chancellor’s repulsorpod to the center of the Senate and declared himself emperor.

Well, not openly. Not in so many words. What the Adjutant-General had done was call for an emergency vote to appoint a new head of state, a new emperor, and the Senate had obliged. Only a few had opposed him, and Tarkin was elected as the latest line in a long series of mistakes the former Republic had made.

Unable to take it anymore, the Senator of Alderaan shut off the holo-screen, and found himself disgusted with his inability to act, but also disgusted at what had happened to the Senate and Republic.

‘I wonder if Tarkin knows what sort of rancor’s cage he has unlocked by showing that anyone can become emperor so long as they have enough firepower?’ Bail wondered.

Any rise to power that was facilitated via a coup – and Tarkin’s rise was indeed a coup, as the Adjutant-General had controlled the defenses and fleets around Coruscant and used them to threaten the planet into compliance – was doomed to fail.

Violence beget violence, and a nation born of betrayal would soon continue to prop itself up with same. Soon, military leaders and senators would figure this out, and the new emperor would be spending most of his time fending off attempts to usurp him.

Perhaps Tarkin had expected this, and set a precedent where murdering the emperor – or attempted murder – carried the death penalty with Mas Amedda’s trial and execution to frighten would be usurpers. Yet this would not stop the opportunists and ladder climbers.

‘Tarkin will need a way to direct the attentions of the lower ranked officers and the populace, so he will try to continue the war against the CIS,’ Bail mused, thinking over the situation closely.

The military was exhausted, though, and unless Tarkin wanted to have his forces collapse before they could get beyond the current border, he’d need to spend time resupplying the warships and fixing whatever Palpatine had done to the clones.

Alderaan would not participate in this farce, but he wasn’t sure what he could do about it. The Empire now held all the cards. Only time would tell what would happen going forward.

‘Perhaps I should try and get into contact with Mon Motha and the other moderates who refused to vote for Palpatine and Tarkin,’ Bail wondered.

He’d need to act soon. His absence from the Senate could be explained for now: his wife’s pregnancy and the birth of his daughter was enough to buy him some time, but he needed to return to Coruscant in order to keep an eye on the way the political winds were blowing, and he couldn’t do that away from the center of galactic power.

To keep his world and his family safe in these unknown times, he needed allies, and those would have to be picked very carefully.

The senator’s thoughts were interrupted by a quiet cry, and he glanced in the direction of Leia’s room. Getting used to a baby in the house was an interesting experience, to say the least.

“Bail, can you hold Leia for a bit?” Breha requested, carrying in the newborn. “She’s getting a bit fussy, and I need both hands for a moment to get her milk ready. I don’t trust that droid to get the temperature right. I think we might need to adjust the caretaker modules.”

“Of course,” he said, holding his hands out.

His wife gently deposited the child into his arms, and smiled a little as she watched him adjust Leia so her head was propped up properly.

“You’ve gotten better at this,” Breha commented fondly as Leia made a little whine before settling down in his arms.

“After the first few times you scolded me for holding her wrong, I did my best to learn,” Bail replied, flashing his spouse a smile.

She smiled back before heading off to the kitchens to fetch what she needed

‘What do Yoda and Kenobi think of this whole situation?’ Bail wondered as he gently rocked Padme’s daughter. ‘I know why they couldn’t stay, but now I wish we had kept some sort of way to stay in contact.’

With Palpatine dead, could he perhaps try to find the Jedi Masters? He doubted Tarkin would continue the Sith Lord’s persecution policies against the Force Users, but it might just be safer to lie low for now.

“Guh!” A chubby little hand reached out for his goatee, and Bail chuckled as Leia tried to grab his facial hair.

For now, though, he had a cute little princess to pamper.

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Obi-Wan stared up at the stars, silent. Night was a rare and precious thing on a planet with three suns. He had no idea how anyone could willingly live on a world as hot as Tatooine. It was beyond him. Already he was starting to regret his decision, but he couldn’t just drop everything and leave.

‘But would it be so wrong?’ the former Jedi Master and General of the Grand Army of the Republic wondered.

He’d felt it, like a supernova in the Force. The death of Darth Sidious and his apprentice, Darth Vader. Kenobi had thought that the latter had perished on Mustafar, but he’d been so very wrong. And yet, now, at long last, the threat of the Sith was wiped out, gone for good from the galaxy.

The only reason he’d picked Tatooine as a place to hide himself and Luke had been because he knew without a shred of doubt that the man who had once been Anakin Skywalker would never even think of returning to this world, not in a million year. It carried too much pain for the Jedi-turned-Sith.

Without Vader, without Sidious, what was even the point of staying here?

Kenobi knew why. The Empire still stood. The perversion of democracy, the grand plot of the Sith, a thousand years of evil in the making, remained, and so long as it did, Luke and his twin sister Leia would never be safe.

So, to that end, Tatooine would remain Luke's home, and his place of exile.

Yet Kenobi couldn’t help but wonder why the Force felt as if it was finally calm and serene. There was no more Light and Dark clawing at each other. No more struggling to peer through the Veil of the Darkside, as it had been ripped apart with the death of the last two Sith. The Force felt as if, at long last, balance had truly been achieved.

Had it taken the destruction of both Jedi and Sith for the Force to finally be free and at peace? Did that mean that everything had been for naught? That the destruction of all he held dear and the death of so many had all been part of an even greater desire, beyond even the machinations of the Sith?

The former Jedi did not know. And so all he could do was sit and meditate under the stars, hoping – praying – for guidance to come.

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Author's Note: Hello! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, as well as the bonus one to celebrate this little experiment! Thanks to all who voted! I hope to continue this and make it a permanent part of my work from now on!

Again, thanks for voting, and I hope you enjoy reading!