The Emperor's Vision
The meditation chamber aboard the Death Star was silent but for the rasp of breathing. Palpatine sat on the obsidian dais, eyes closed, fingers hooked like talons. His awareness stretched outward through fleets, through worlds, through the living screams of the Yuuzhan Vong that still burned in the void.
And there, beyond the veil, he found it.
A presence unlike the others. Older. Heavier. The nexus of all the Vong's fury and zeal. The God of War incarnate the source from which their crusade drew its unending bloodlust.
Palpatine's eyes snapped open, burning yellow. "At last."
He summoned Thrawn to the throne chamber.
"You will take half the fleet, Grand Admiral. Strike where I direct. Burn every ship, every temple, every beast in orbit. Leave their so-called god of war naked and powerless. I will shatter their spirit as I shatter their flesh."
Thrawn bowed, mask of calm hiding his intrigue. "As you command, my Emperor. The Chiss will break their spine."
While Imperial might surged toward the Vong god's bastion, the Rebellion seized its one chance. Tyra, Rendar, and a cadre of infiltrators crept from hyperspace in cloaked freighters, hugging the shadows of a debris field. The Death Star loomed ahead a world of durasteel, alive with traffic and power, a demon machine that had murdered entire systems.
They breached a ventral maintenance shaft, slicing into shadowed corridors, their gear muted, their breaths held. The plan was simple: plant proton warheads in the main reactor conduits, trigger a cascade, and end Palpatine's terror once and for all.
Tyra whispered, "For Bail. For the billions."
They moved like ghosts through the belly of the beast.
The Sith's Answer
Palpatine felt them.
Deep in the Force, a ripple of defiance. A flicker of rebellion daring to step into his sanctum. He did not rise, nor call guards. Instead, he reached.
When the infiltrators placed their charges and armed the timers, the Emperor's presence filled the chamber like a tidal wave of black flame. The saboteurs froze their breath ripped from their lungs, their very life-force unraveling thread by thread.
Palpatine appeared before them in a storm of shadows. His withered hands rose.
"Fools."
The air vibrated as his power consumed them. Flesh shriveled, eyes sank, and souls screamed as he drained them dry. In moments, only husks lay upon the reactor floor, their bombs inert, their sacrifice meaningless.
The Emperor absorbed their essence, standing taller, stronger, his skin momentarily flushed with stolen vitality.
In orbit over Aeloria, Bail Organa looked skyward as shadows covered the sun. He had lived his life for hope, for the dream of freedom, and had staked it all on this fragile Resistance. Around him, children and families sought shelter in caverns, still believing tomorrow could exist.
On the Death Star, Palpatine extended a single clawed finger.
"Fire."
The superlaser ignited, a blinding spear of emerald light. It struck the planet's crust with merciless precision. In seconds, oceans rose in plumes of steam, mountains buckled, and the Resistance's sanctuary world screamed apart.
Bail's last sight was the sky turning white.
War Ascendant
As Bail and Aeloria burned, Thrawn's fleets crushed the Yuuzhan Vong stronghold in a symphony of annihilation. Worldships ruptured, their living guts spilling across the stars. The so-called god of war roared its challenge in a psychic wave that made lesser men weep blood but Thrawn's lines did not falter.
When the smoke cleared, the Vong's god lay broken in orbit, its living core shattered. Yet even in ruin, Palpatine could feel it whisper across the Force, promising vengeance, promising return.
The Emperor stood at the viewport, the light of two genocides blazing in his eyes.
He had extinguished the Resistance's heart. He had humbled the Yuuzhan Vong's god. He alone stood unopposed.
At least, for now.