The Last Strike of the Empire: Chapter II

Chapter II: Desertion

The doors to the turbolift opened to the sound of the Emperor’s cackles. “Tied onto a string indeed,” he muttered to himself. Piett glared at Darth Vader as they crossed paths.

“Do you know why I keep such a rabid cur in such a place of power?” asked the Emperor softly, the doors having barely closed behind Piett. “A cur’s weakness, properly manipulated, can be a powerful tool.”

Darth knelt at the foot of the stairs where the Emperor day on his throne. “My master.”

“Lord Vader.” Palpatine rose from his throne. “When I found you, I saw… power. Unlimited… power. And beyond that… something truly special.”

Palpatine’s yellow eyes regarded Vader’s black mask. “The potential of your conception… a child of the Force. A dark lord of the Sith, a power rival to none, the strongest weapon in the galaxy.”

The Emperor slowly shook his hooded head. “Now… I’m afraid I was mistaken… about a great many things.”

“That is impossible,” said Darth. “I have dedicated everything to your service.”

The Emperor sneered. “Take off that pitiful little mask.”

There was a pause, then Darth reached up and unhooked the mask from his suit. With a click, it came free. Dark brown hair tumbled from it, framing a face with a long scar running across a striking blue eye. Darth’s lip trembled with a tranquil fury that threatened tears, but the tears did not come. They were hidden behind his furious, handsome eyes.

“Yes…” Palpatine murmured softly. “The face of Anakin Starkiller. You have the heart of a Jedi… and the spirit of Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“I destroyed Obi-Wan Kenobi!” protested Darth. “I waited eagerly for the moment when I could strike him down!”

“And look at you now!” Palpatine snarled. “The deed threw your mind into confusion! You were defeated by a common smuggler and a boy who had never used the Force! The Death Star was destroyed, and Yoda lives! You… have… failed!”

Darth lunged at his master, but sparks flew and knocked him back. Indigo lightning leapt from Palpatine’s fingers as the Emperor struck and struck again, sending electricity pulsing through Darth’s muscular body with every burst. Palpatine’s teeth were bared as his eyes blazed with fury. Darth screamed and moaned until Palpatine ceased, standing with his fingers hanging in the aftermath of the outburst. Smoke curled from Darth’s armor.

“As long as the Jedi remain in the galaxy,” said Palpatine, “hope lives. Virtue lives. Freedom lives. Goodness… lives. I thought you would be the one to crush it once and for all.”

The Emperor sat in his throne. “Unfortunately, you are no Sith.” He shook his head. “You’re only a child… in a mask.”

In the turbolift, far from Palpatine’s prying eyes, Darth stared at his helmet. Fury boiled inside him.

“It’s all Palpatine’s fault!” he shouted. He threw his helmet against the wall. “He’s holding me back!”

Darth kicked his helmet viciously, denting it. His brown locks hung in front of his angry reddened eye as he breathed hard, chest heaving.

The turbolift doors opened and Darth Vader stormed out, leaving his helmet on the floor. “Prepare my ship.”

Luke stopped. Standing there in the fog was a short, green creature in robes with his back turned, gazing at the swamp.

Luke’s eyes widened. It was Yoda.

The Jedi Master Ben’s voice had told him about. The Jedi Master who had ushered in an era of peace in the Republic, before the Empire seized control.

Trembling, Luke approached the Jedi.

Yoda turned and looked up. He stared at Luke, his green brow furrowed with surprise.

Luke pulled out his lightsaber and extended it to the Jedi.

Yoda stared at it and took it in his tiny green hands.

Yoda looked down at the saber, marvelling at it. His green eyes widened. He had not seen the weapon of a Jedi in almost nineteen years.

Yoda chucked the saber into the bog and hobbled away.

Luke stood aghast. He looked between Yoda and the bog, then walked over and picked up the lightsaber. He shooed away the scaly bat-birds that were investigating it.

Luke dashed after Yoda, who was giggling to himself as he hopped along on his stick.

Yoda was incredibly fast for a little old gremlin. He hopped in his boat and paddled across the swamp.

Luke groaned. How could he follow him?

Luke saw a vine hanging over the swamp. He closed his eyes and pulled it to him with the Force, using it to swing across the muddy pond.

He dashed after Yoda, who was holding a spear over the water. Yoda speared a giant worm out of the swamp and pulled out the spear. He looked Luke dead in the eye and began slurping up the worm headfirst. The worm disappeared further and further into Yoda’s belly and still he slurped. It continued to emerge from the swamp as he slurped and slurped.

Just when Luke was wondering just how long the worm was, Yoda bit it off and sardonically held the bloody, wriggling stump out to Luke. Luke made a face of disgust and Yoda dropped the half-eaten snake back into the swamp. The bat-birds cawed across the bog.

Yoda galloped across the swamp, flipping and twirling in the air as he went. He squeezed under a root and disappeared into the tree.

Luke ran up to the tree. He cried out as his boots splashed in soupy mud. He bent down over the entrance to the little hut. “Master Yoda!” he called.

“Go away!” shouted the Jedi master in a shrill, raspy voice.

“I won’t leave here,” Luke protested. “Ben sent me!”

“Hm? Ben? Know him I do not,” Yoda huffed. Luke could not see him. He appeared to be hiding crouched behind one of the earthen columns of his abode, sulking.

“Master Kenobi! Obi-Wan!” Luke yelled. “I’m Luke Skywalker! I’m here to be trained as a Jedi!”

“No more Jedi will I train,” Yoda replied. “Home you must go.”

“I’ve come all this way,” said Luke. “I’m from the Rebellion. Master Obi-Wan sent me. We need your help.”

“No more Jedi will I train,” Yoda repeated. “Came here to die I did. Away you must go.”

Luke turned and sat in the mud, brooding. He looked up. Artoo was completely drenched in mud, beeping.

“What is that sound?” asked Yoda.

Artoo beeped emphatically.

“R2?” inquired the Jedi. His pointy-eared head poked out from the entrance of his hut. “R2-D2?”

Artoo beeped.

“Doing here, what are you?” asked Yoda.

Artoo began to issue a stream of explanatory beeps.

Yoda’s ears drew back with alarm. “Wait,” he croaked. “Where is Obi-Wan?”

Han walked into the hangar. Leia was there, holding a blaster.

Han leaned against the wall. “What are you doing here?”

“Admiral asked me to guard the hangar,” said Leia. “People trying to desert. I’ve had to stun four people so far.” She patted her blaster.

Han sucked in his lip and nodded, trying to act casual. “Cool.” He started walking away, towards the Falcon.

“Can you believe there are people trying to desert?” asked Leia, walking with him. “It sickens me, how disloyal they are.”

“Oh yeah, just sickening,” Han agreed.

“I mean, after we destroyed the Death Star,” Leia rambled. “You’d think they’d have a little more hope. The admiral knows what he’s doing.”

“Uh-huh,” said Han, winding his way around the hangar, trying to give her the slip.

“I’m just glad you and Chewie aren’t deserters,” said Leia. “At first it seemed like you were, but now…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Han waved. “Happy to help.”

Leia became quiet. “My friend Holdo died in that attack run.”

“I’m sorry,” said Han, not knowing what else to say to get her off his back.

“She was full of hope,” Leia reminisced. “We were like sisters. She gave me this japor snippet from Alderaan. I have half and she has the other. Had.”

Leia pulled out the snippet and looked at it. Absently, she walked directly in front of Han, blocking his way into the Falcon.

“Would you mind going back to your business so I can go back to mine?” Han snapped.

“And what is your business?” asked Leia, raising an eyebrow. “What are you trying to do?”

Han stopped. “Well, I…”

“Boarding the Falcon,” said Leia, slowly realizing Han’s intentions, “with a packed bag.”

“Now gimme just a second to explain, your worsh–” Han started.

Leia aimed and fired. Blue rings shot into Han’s crotch and arced through his body. He grunted as he fell to the floor, stunned. His body sizzled as he lay unconscious.

Leia stood over him, glaring. “You’re just like the others,” she spat.

Me: Forget the sequel trilogy. I’m sticking with the original six.

My brother: Original SIX?

Me: Yep.

My brother: You can’t group the prequels and originals together like that.

Me: Yes I can. Fight me.

How Disney SHOULD have made the sequel trilogy

1. Choose ONE writer. This will be the George Lucas of the new age. JJ Abrams, Dave Filoni, just choose someone you think will take care of the franchise the way George did. (I am not saying JJ or Filoni should have been the ones in this position, but they wouldn’t be the worst.)

2. Balance out Lucas’s successor with a different director or multiple different directors. The Kershners and Marquands of the new age.

3. Spend THREE YEARS on each episode the way it’s ALWAYS been done. Absolutely no cranking out saga installments.

4. Keep an animated show handy to tide people over. Ideally, this show could tie into the sequels, taking place between them the way the 2003 Clone Wars miniseries tied directly into Revenge of the Sith and got people hyped for it after Attack of the Clones. Or, better yet, devote a show explaining what happened between ROTJ and Episode VII. But under NO circumstances assume people will watch it and not have to have it explained in the film. Give enough exposition for people who only watch the movies.

5. The anthology films are a good idea, much like the TV show. Work on them at more or less the same time as the saga films with a different crew and release them between saga installments. Again, three year gaps provide a nice middle year for anthology films to be released. Lucasfilm could get away with cranking these out instead of devoting huge effort to them, but obviously they don’t want people losing interest in the franchise.

6. Make the film clear for the Internet™ and explain it to them, because they won’t understand. None of this “is Reylo going to happen” BS. People should know what Lucasfilm’s intentions are and what messages it’s promoting.

7. The mystery box approach isn’t really the best thing for Star Wars. No one walked out of A New Hope thinking, “I bet Vader is Luke’s father!” or “I bet Leia is Luke’s sister!” Those iconic reveals punched us in the gut instead of building anticipation (during which time, theorists would figure out the twist before it happened.) On the other hand, be sure to subtly set up the reveals so they don’t come off as butt-pulls (coughs at Rey Nobody.)

JJ never said Snoke was never important, you just thought he was. Luke’s purpose on Ahch-to was always to die quietly. JJ never hinted that Rey was a Skywalker, you made that up. Balance of the Force has always meant equal light and dark. Finn was always a side character. Star Wars’ humor was always this goofy. Poe was always a reckless hothead. Rey is unselfish to a fault, not someone who spent years looking out for herself and not trusting people. Rey’s parents are buried on Jakku. Luke was always a stickler for the orthodox Jedi ways, but Yoda didn’t care about them. Star Wars was repetitive, borrowing too much from itself, and something needed to break the mold and do something different. No, I’m not ‘gaslighting’ you, you’re just remembering things incorrectly through the lens of your unrealistic expectations.

This would be an idea for Rey’s ship. One of the things about the Millenium Falcon is that both Luke and Leia, and the audience if successful, are supposed to find it shoddy and ugly. Of course, decades later, the Millenium Falcon has become a favorite, and is cheered for when it comes on screen. With Rey’s ship, the expectations would be lowered again.

Her scavenger aesthetic I made in her concept art carries over to this. It’s intentionally made to look like a sandcrawler, which in legends were created thousands of years ago to be sturdy but cheap mining equipment, and this would be a smaller version. However, Rey has repurposed it into her own, making it airtight and outfitting it with life-support systems. The treads have been made retractable for hyperspeed, and she fitted an inflatable raft and side cannon for sticky situations.

Also, she made a figurehead in the style of General Grievous, who, in the years since the Clone Wars, has gained a legacy as a scavenger lord so good at finding parts, he could repair himself over and over again. (Moth)

Palpatine: [dials up Commander Cody]