Darkness Beckoning

Chapter 1

The Imperial fleet had gathered far from the galaxy proper. They were the ships of the few remaining warlords, those few that remained "loyal" to the "true" Empire, and all were together without war. Admiral Viventa doubted it would last long.

Sal Viventa was the commander of the fleet belonging to the Warlord Cayne, one of the three remaining Imperial warlords. Those three were all that remained of the once glorious Empire, and every leader with a will to fight was gone, dead; destroyed by the traitorous rebels who called themselves the "New Republic", or worse yet, allied with them. Now all the warlords did was squabble amongst themselves instead of fighting the true enemy, and Viventa longed for a battle, longed for a real fight. He almost wished that the warlords would begin to fight eachother – but no, he did not. Even though this argument he overheard seemed close to becoming such.

"How dare you interfere with my fleet’s training maneuvers?" Cayne demanded of the two holographic images floating above the deck at one-third size. The Warlord was on the bridge, in order to "inspire" the crew. Though he was Viventa’s superior and the Admiral would remain loyal to him, Viventa knew that his presence did no such thing.

"I, interfere?" retorted Alieal, a small man with a hard face that contrasted sharply to Cayne’s pudgy build and fat cheeks. "I am here by your invitation."

"My invitation?" Cayne snorted. "Impossible! I am here to speak to Warlord Nexis of your treachery."

"Treachery?" demanded Alieal. "What treachery do you speak of? I am all for the Empire. What have you to say to that, Nexis?"

"Say to that?" Nexis asked. "I will say one thing: it is a lie. I did not send esteemed –" the sarcasm in his voice was plain "–colleague any message."

"What?" Cayne stuttered. The man was a wimp, Viventa knew, and did not like to be threatened, for he had not the courage to reply.

"I sent you no message," Nexis replied. "For I am here on Alieal’s request."

"I have your message!" Cayne yelled. The man had no control.

"What message?" Nexis snorted.

"The message you sent!" Cayne’s voice rose and became high pitched.

"I sent no message!" Nexis bellowed in reply.

"Gentlemen –" Alieal began, only to be cut off.

"You are the basest of liars –" Cayne screeched at Nexis.

"You dare call me a liar?" Nexis returned. "You, who will compose false mess-"

"Gentlemen!" Alieal’s commanding tone drowned them both out. Their heads both snapped to his holographic image, each ready to turn on the Warlord with the nerve to interfere. Nexis began to speak, but Alieal cut him off once more.

"My colleagues," he said, his voice smooth and easy, "it is plain to me what is happening here. I received an invitation that I though was from Cayne. You," he looked at Cayne, "received an invitation you thought was from Nexis, who received an invitation that I did not send. Someone is behind this, my friends; someone who wants us to fight."

"Absurd!" Cayne declared. "No one would dare!"

"Someone has, I think," Alieal said.

"Then why?" Nexis wondered, his voice calming down. Why is it that I serve of the one of the three who is a blustering idiot? Viventa thought to himself behind an expressionless mask.

"They seek to divide us," Alieal replied.

"Rebels," hissed Cayne.

Admiral Viventa took a chance. "Begging your pardon, sir," he said, "but they have never used a tactic even approaching this. And if it were the Rebels, their entire accursed fleet would have arrived by now, under the command of Admiral Ackbar, and we would not be arguing the finer points of their plan."

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Alieal’s nod of approval even as Cayne turned on him. "You dare contradict me?" the Warlord snarled.

Viventa did not move; in fact, he looked the Warlord directly in the eye, a complete breech of Imperial protocol. The Warlord was a weak man, the Admiral knew, and would not go beyond idle threats and meaningless shouts. Plies Cayne needed him too much.

Suddenly the proximity alarm sounded, its high-pitched screeching startling all of the bridge crew, most of all, the Warlord. "What’s that?" Cayne squeaked.

Viventa ignored his superior. "Captain, report!" he ordered.

"Sir, it appears that there is an object exiting hyperspace nearby," Captain Telti replied, showing his training by his calm response to orders.

"How close?" the Admiral barked as the alarm grew louder.

The Captain bent over the consul himself. "Right next to us, sir!" Telti yelled.

Viventa sprinted to the observation deck. "What is it?"

His crew was given no chance to reply. Suddenly, the Imperial Avenger shuddered, the vibrations shaking her from stem to stern. A black shadow emerged from hyperspace, dwarfing the Imperial II-class Star Destroyer, so close that the two ships’ shields brushed, pushing the Avenger away. The larger ship passed directly over the bridge of Viventa’s ship, its black hull blocking the glimmer of the faraway stars and his view of the other Imperial ships. It seemed endless, until finally the ship passed by, revealing new Star Destroyers… all unknown to Sal Viventa, all motionless in the distance.

"Captain?" Viventa prompted.

"Sir…" the captain began, "it appears to be a very large ship."

"What class?" Cayne barked.

"Shut up, Cayne," Alieal said softly, his eyes focused off of the bridge his own flagship, focused on the black shadow…

"That’s an Eclipse class Star Destroyer," Viventa said softly to no one in particular.

"The Emperor?" Alieal whispered. His tone held awe, and… hope?

"The Emperor’s last clone died fifteen years ago," Viventa said. "Unless…"

"No," Alieal agreed sadly. "There are no more. Still, I did hope… But if it is not him, who is it?"

"Someone with power," Nexis replied. "But what do they want? And do they have anything to do with whoever set us up?"

"Or are they the one who set us up?" Viventa wondered.

"That, Admiral, is an outstanding question," Alieal said. "One I think we will not answer ourselves, for I think ‘they’ are the ones who must answer us that."

"If they live long enough to," Nexis said.

"Nexis, do not make threats before you understand the situation of which you speak." Alieal’s voice was soft and dangerous.

Suddenly on all three flagships, a fourth holographic image flickered, then appeared. It was of a tall, thin man, wearing the uniform of an Imperial General.

"Comrade Imperials," the General said. "I am General Rieyu. My lord wishes to see you all expediently on board his flagship."

"And who is your ‘lord’?" Cayne demanded.

"I am not at liberty to tell you at this time," Rieyu replied.

"And how do we – "

Alieal cut Cayne off. "What of our safety?" he asked. "You will understand, of course, if we might believe that you could have cause to decieve us."

"Of course we can understand that," Rieyu soothed, "and you have my personal word on the fact you will not be harmed. Nothing dangerous will come to pass while you are here."

"Thank you for the reassurance," Alieal said smoothly. "What are the arrangements?"

"Each of you bring your personal shuttles and pilots. Fly into the fore launch bay and I will escort you from there."

"Very well," Alieal replied. "We shall see you there."

"Indeed." Rieyu’s image flicked out.

"What have you gotten us into?" Cayne demanded. "How dare you speak for all of us?"

"Begging the warlord’s pardon," Viventa said, "but I believe that Warlord Alieal is correct. We have no idea how to deal with this ‘lord’, whoever they are, and we must learn something about them. They were able to break into our supposedly ‘secure’ communications, sir, and we must find out what they want."

Cayne almost turned on him, but Alieal forestalled him. "The Admiral is right, Cayne," he said. "We must go."

Nexis finally spoke. "You are right, Alieal, no matter how little I like it myself. We must go." He gave Viventa no credit, but the Admiral was used to it.

Stepping down from Cayne’s Lambda-class shuttle, Admiral Viventa could not but help admire the fore launch bay of the Eclipse-class Star Destroyer. It was vast, easily the size of his entire flagship, and in all directions crew members were moving, working, serving the Empire. In that launch bay alone it seemed there were an equal number of men to those who served as the Imperial Avenger’s crew. But that was unsurprising, for this Eclipse was ten times the size of an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer.

Warlord Cayne – the coward who was too afraid to come alone – followed him down the ramp, glancing about himself in stupid awe. Descending from similar shuttles came the remaining Imperial warlords. Neither Nexis or Alieal was accompanied by another, which merely served to reinforce Viventa’s low opinion of his master. For a moment the Admiral wondered if coming here was such a wise idea after all; with the only high-ranking Imperials left all in one place, who could pass up the opportunity to cash in? Certainly no sane man would pass up the chance to kill them all – or at least, no sane enemy.

But Viventa did not think that any enemy would go to such lengths – building an Eclipse class Star Destroyer, for example – to kill them. It would be much easier to do so without so much work, the admiral knew, and to assemble the fleet that lay beside the Eclipse would not have been simple, in fact, it would have been difficult and extremely expensive. And that was not even considering the cost of the Eclipse that they now were aboard, which easily equaled that of the entire fleets of Cayne, Alieal, and Nexis combined. On retrospect, Viventa had to think that to die on board an Eclipse class Star Destroyer was not such a bad place to die after all.

General Rieyu approached. The warlords had gathered together, and they all stood facing him, none trusting him farther than they could have thrown him – unaided. He spoke. "Gentlemen, if you will please come with me?"

"Would you mind explaining – " Cayne began, only to be cut off by Jon Nexis.

"Of course we would," Nexis said soothingly. "Please excuse the Warlord, General, for he has had a stressful day."

"It is understandable," Moridian Rieyu replied, clearly not caring for Cayne, a sentiment which none of the others could disagree with. "Please follow me."

Following him, Nexis grabbed Cayne by the arm, dragging him forward. Viventa started after them, but Alieal took his arm. "Walk with me, Admiral," he said softly, "and see if you and I share the same concerns."

"Of course, sir."

Alieal followed the General, but at a safe distance for speaking. "Let us be frank, Admiral," he said. "Is it just me, or is ‘General Rieyu’ supposed to be dead as of fifteen years ago?"

"No, sir, it’s not just you," Viventa replied. "I was under the impression that the Emperor’s favorites either serve him or die."

"True," Alieal admitted, "but Moridian Rieyu’s white hair and green eyes would be very hard to fake."

"But not impossible."

"No, not impossible." Alieal turned to face him.

"But you think differently," Viventa replied.

"Yes, I do, Admiral," Alieal said softly. "But before I go on, let me say this. I believe that you are a competent officer, Viventa, and seemingly a skilled one. Your reputation precedes you, and I have a suggestion to make. Or rather, an offer to make you.

"I can see that you do not like serving a dolt like Pleis Cayne, and I can see that there could be soon an opportunity for that to change," Alieal said. "I am proposing an alliance between the two of us."

"You are proposing a very serious act of betrayal, sir," Viventa said softly.

"Yes, I am," Alieal agreed. "But do you really wish to serve one such as he?"

"He is a fool, and a cowardly one at that," Viventa replied.

"Ah, I see that your opinion of your superior is as low as my own." Alieal chuckled. "What do you say, Admiral?"

"Sir, I say that to serve you would be an honor," Viventa said, "but I will not leave without permission from the Warlord Cayne."

"By the book, are we, Admiral?"

"Yes, sir."

"I can understand that, Admiral," Alieal replied, "for I know you are an honorable man. And I know that it will not be easy to tear you away from Cayne, but I will do so. If I have his agreement, will you be able to serve me?"

"And willing, sir." Viventa smiled. This was far better than he had even dared hope for. To finally serve someone that bore a remote resemblance of the Empire’s former glory…

"I also see, Admiral," the warlord replied, "that you think as I do. Shall we see what this ‘lord’ has in store for us?"

Viventa nodded, and by unspoken consent, the warlord and the admiral closed the distance that had opened between the three others. To his slight surprise, General Rieyu led them to the throne room that was on board all of the Empire’s largest vessels. Even more surprising were the two Imperial guards stationed at the entrance. They stood at rigid attention, silent as stones, but stepped aside for Rieyu. The general – if he really was that – opened the door, and bowed from the doorway.

"My lord," he said, "the warlords Cayne, Nexis, Alieal, and Admiral Viventa."

"Very well," came the mysterious voice of a man who commanded the former guards of the Emperor. "Allow them to enter."

"Will you require anything further of me, my Lord?" Rieyu asked, and with a start, Sal Viventa realized that Moridian Rieyu feared whoever was within that room.

"No," the voice said, "I will not. But you will stay anyway."

"Yes, my Lord." Rieyu stepped aside, allowing the warlords and Viventa to enter before him. Viventa took the entire room in within a quick glance, and saw the breathtaking view of the fleet that shone through the large window behind the throne. Two more guards flanked the throne; two others stood against the side walls. A hooded man sat upon the throne. Cayne interrupted his thoughts.

"Who is it that dares to sit upon the Emperor’s throne?" he demanded. For all his faults, the man was loyal to the dead Emperor, Viventa knew – or at least when it profited to be, and as long as the Emperor remained dead. But each man in that room knew that the man occupying the throne was not the late Emperor.

"Welcome to the Resurgence, gentlemen," the man replied, ignoring Cayne’s question completely. "I hope that you did not become too distressed by our arrival. I do apologize, Admiral Viventa, for emerging from hyperspace so close to your flagship. I hope it has not been damaged?"

"No, sir," Viventa replied, startled that he was the first spoken to by name. "It was not."

"Good." The man’s voice was low and somehow, deadly. "The fool who calculated the jump is now dead.

"I am sure that you are all wondering why you are here," the man continued. "And since you are, I am confident that you received my messages."

"You sent them?" Cayne sputtered.

"Of course," the man replied. "How else was I to gather you all without questions?"

"You could have asked," Cayne grumbled. You fool, Viventa thought. This man is too dangerous to anger with stupid questions.

"I do not ask, Warlord Cayne, I command." The stranger’s voice was cold, cruel, with these words.

Cayne cowered, as frightened as the others were, but showing it far more than they would allow themselves to.

"Now, let us get down to why I brought you here," the man said. "You are all here because you can be of use to me. In my regime, I will require men who have remained faithful to the Empire even through these years of strife."

"Your regime?" Cayne demanded. "What right have you to rule?"

"I have every right," the man replied. "For I am the rightful heir to the Empire. I am Clite, the son of Palpatine."

Alieal shot a quick glance at Viventa. Somehow, they both knew that their lives hung in the balance according to what they did at that moment. Simultaneously, both dropped to one knee. Seeing that, Nexis hesitated but a moment, then did the same. But Cayne, the fool that he was, simply demanded:

"You are what? The Emperor had no son."

At least none that were legitimate, Viventa thought to himself. The man – or son of Palpatine, if that was what he was – turned his head and looked at the Admiral, his expression slightly amused. Viventa shivered. It was as if he could see to into his soul.

"Did he not?" the man replied after he looked away from the admiral, his voice low, reasonable. Viventa breathed a sigh of relief to have those bottomless eyes away from him. "I have proof that I am his son. And proof positive that he intended me to be his heir."

Cayne snorted, but Clite merely turned to the others, who still remained on their knees before him. "Rise, my friends," he said. "I am glad that there are some that believe."

They rose, and Alieal dared speak. "If I may ask a question, my Lord?" he ventured.

"By all means, Alieal."

"I do not mean to doubt your word, my Lord," Alieal began, "and I will accept without complaint whatever answer you give this, but may we see those tests?"

"You are sensible as well as courageous, I see," Clite said. "General Rieyu."

Rieyu stepped forward and handed a small, self-playing holo to the warlord. Alieal pressed the activation button without hesitation, causing the results of DNA testing to materialize into the air. It was one hundred percent, proof-positive that this man was who he claimed he was. Clite was the son of Emperor Palpatine. Then, abruptly, the image changed to that of the late Emperor.

"To those who will dare question the right of my son upon my death, I give you these words. Clite Palpatine the heir to the Imperial throne. Do not question this."

They stared in surprise and numbness for a moment. Then, without warning, Alieal again dropped to his knee. Viventa and Nexis followed suit. Cayne hesitated for a moment, then managed to do the same.

"Forgive us, your Highness," Alieal said, "for displaying the most human of failings in doubting you."

"Rise, my friends," the son of Palpatine replied. "You will see that I am perhaps more forgiving than my father." He turned to Cayne. "To an extent."

Cayne cowered before the venom in Clite’s voice. "My Lord, I had no intention of –"

"Do not lie to me, coward," Clite hissed as he stood. "You had every intention of taking the throne for yourself. You might have redeemed yourself by begging forgiveness, but there will be none."

"My Lord, I beseech you –"

"Beseech yourself," Clite cut him off. "You will serve as one final example of the power I have inherited from my father."

"My Lorr-" Cayne was never to finish. The black lightning shot from Clite’s right hand, slashing into Cayne, throwing him into the far wall. The guard that stood there did not even watch as the warlord writhed and screamed, finally falling silent, a burnt, charred mass, barely recognizable as a body, not even a spark of life remaining within it. The others merely stood silently, amazed at the show of power.

Clite turned to them. "Warlord Alieal, you shall be the head of the Imperial fleet, with Admiral Viventa as your second in command."

They both bowed again. "For the both of us, my Lord, I thank you for this honor that you bestow upon us," Alieal said.

"Honor?" Clite laughed. "It will only be an honor if you live to make it so, Warlord. For I will accept nothing short of success."

Alieal bowed again, and Viventa knew that, as he did, the warlord accepted the challenge of serving the next Emperor.

"Warlord Nexis," Clite continued, then paused. "I have a special commission for you, heading up a project mine. I believe that you will find it to your tastes, as well."

Nexis bowed. "My Lord, you have only to command me."

"And I shall," Clite said. "Notify your fleets that there is a new Emperor. It is time for the Empire to rise again – under me."

Chapter 2

Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, sat in the center of the war room of the Great Temple on Yavin 4, the home of the Academy, his praxem. It was the middle of a deep dark night, and only he was awake. But that was of little matter – while in his Jedi trance of sleep, he’d felt a hint of darkness far away. Even now, it tugged at the edge of his consciousness, so he allowed himself to relax further, and stretched outward.

He felt a dark presence… that of a man – a young man. Very powerful, very dark… hating so very much and so very easily…

Then, abruptly, it was gone, as if the man had sensed that he’d been noticed and had not appreciated it. But he had not been noticed by an ordinary Jedi. So Luke stretched further, and it was still there. And he’d not been mistaken – that man was very strong.

His eyes opened. He had work to do.

Their home planet was a beautiful one, but the Kirkkits cared little for beauty or nature as a race. Galiese was a world of sweeping plains and sparkling oceans, though both were perhaps a bit overrun by technology. Still, the architecture of the buildings and homes was smooth and handsome, even if there were too many of both. Despite the overcrowding, the parks were numerous, and they were home of what the government called "the pride of the people" – or at least to any visitors not of their world. Their "pride" was the outdoor museums that the parks housed, and they were careful to keep up appearances by visiting. Of course, the cold, calculating Kirkkits cared little for them; though stunning, the statues were for show, existing only for the sake of their intimately laid plans, as did the beauty of Galiese itself.

But inside those smooth buildings stood the tools of death; inside were the tools of war. Because the Kirkkits were a race drawn to war, and good at it as well. They were drawn to power and projected it the only way they knew how – by conquering and subjecting other planets and other races. And they did it in a cruel way, slaughtering any resistance that dared to step in their path to greatness, for they were the master race and destined to rule the universe. They had already conquered their home galaxy and the three to the sides of their own in their hunger for power – and the next was the home of the New Republic.

That was why a hand picked portion of their population was now living on Galiese, in the Kies System. To the other races living in nearby systems on the Outer Rim they seemed a peaceful people, and they seemed to be unarmed save for the weapons necessary for their own defense. Their fleet seemed to consist of only fighters of a strangely inefficient design. But the fleet only seemed to be that way.

In reality, the third moon of Galiese was their real base. The size of a small planet, Galiese III was their military base, the home of over ten million ground troops and one thousand fighters separate from the ships of their fleet that hid behind the moon, out of range of any sensors. And at that moment, on that moon, Diantate stood before their "home" corps.

Her skin was a beautiful pearl green color, and she wore white to set it off. She had no hair, but a spike of cartilage emerged from the back of her head, closely resembling her claw-like fingers. Tall, even for a female of her race, she dwarfed the warriors of Galiese at nearly three meters tall.

"Fellow warriors, we are far from home," she said. Each hard-edged solider stood at perfect attention, allowing no expression on their faces. "And we are further than we have ever ventured before, but I know you will bring glory to your people across the three galaxies we span. Our nation is great, and with you behind me, we will become greater still. I come from our home to aid you in our journey to bring the master race to power all across the universe.

"The government that calls themselves the New Republic is coming here; we will slay their ambassador if they are uncooperative and destroy their fleet. From there we will conquer and we will win. But before that, we must appear peaceful.

"The fleet will travel to the far side of Caliese, the eight planet of our system, using the asteroid belt as a screen. They will wait there until called upon. The rest of you will remain here until I have need of you .

"Remember this, my warriors, for the battles to come: prisoners you take will be you own to do with what you wish. As is victory, when you bring it to me." She then turned without further word, leaving the warriors to be dismissed by their commander as she walked down the hall to enter the General’s office.

He had stood behind her silently during her speech, and now followed her after speaking the few necessary commands to dismiss his troops. The General was shorter than his nation’s leader, standing at only two and one-third meters, the average height of male Kirkkits. She spoke from behind his desk as he entered.

"Are all preparations complete, General Heama?" Diantate spoke in fluent Basic with no accent.

"Yes, Levigiti," he replied. Levigiti meant "leader" in their native tongue – Kir.

"Good." She leaned back in his chair. "We will act only if their leader seems unlikely to believe us. If their ambassador is willing to be deceived, we will be subtle."

"As you wish, Levigiti." He bowed.

"You do not like it?" she asked. "And don’t call me Levigiti. You need to speak only Basic. Madam will do."

"No, I do not like it, Madam," he replied carefully. One did not displease Diantate and live, as many had learned over the two hundred years of her rule and the four hundred years of her father before her – Textis had ruled until she had killed him in order to take his place.

"Why do you not like it?" She smiled when he hesitated. "Relax, General. You are useful to me, and since you are still alive, I will not kill you just because a few of your words displease me."

"We have not used this tactic before, Madam," Heama said. "And our military is strong enough to take this galaxy with ease – even with three-quarters of it elsewhere."

"Yes, I know," Diantate replied, her cross tone encouraging her General to take a step backwards. "But I wish for it to be done this way, and we have studied this galaxy for a long while – their government will fall easily if tampered with from within. Besides, it should prove to be interesting."

"That it should, Madam," he said. "That it should."