The dream was interrupted as if it had been cut off by a lightsaber.
For a while, I lay staring at the ceiling of my apartments in the Citadel on Christophsis. Beyond the spacious windows, which formed one of the walls, the starry night flowed by without the slightest alarm. Through it, without getting out of bed, one could make out the glow of the night city lights.
Funny. The serenity of a sleeping metropolis amidst the bloody war raging in the galaxy. I wonder, among the millions of worlds, how many have not been touched by the bloody harvest?
Carefully, so as not to disturb her, I removed Eila's hand from my chest, slipping out from under the blanket. Fumbling in the dark bedroom for light footwear and a robe, I silently made my way toward the exit. The door panel slid silently aside, letting me into the spacious, luxuriously furnished living room.
Gesturing to Kenny and R3 to indicate there was nothing to worry about, I shuffled quietly towards the kitchen.
"Well, the person can't sleep," the droid replied, lowering the volume of his vocabulizer, responding to the astromech's quiet trill. "Why are you sticking to me like a stripper to a pole?"
Grinning, I poured some caf brewed by the machine into a mug. Taking a sip of the drink, I walked with a slight smile to the sliding panels leading to the attic.
Unusually wide—my starfighter could easily fit on it—it was surrounded by decorative railings made of extremely rare minerals. Yes, the construction cost Christophsis's budget a lot of credits. But I like it.
It's good that the inhabitants of this galaxy have short memories. Otherwise, they would have started asking questions—why on earth is a building being constructed for a Jedi that once symbolized the evil power of the Sith Emperor. Now... if there was any distrust of the structure, it was so quiet that even Christophsis's counter-intelligence couldn't find anything. And I was confident in their competence. And what could threaten me here, in the heart of a small branch of my Empire? Nothing, that's what.
Even Kaili Omas, who suddenly turned out to be immune to mental manipulation, eventually made the right choice. Oh, how many secrets ancient Sith knowledge holds. Now I don't have to bother with bed games with cute females. A subtle mental intervention is enough. And a whisper, which they, naive, perceive as revelations of the Force.
I wonder, did Valkorion have fun the same way, subjugating others?
From the roof of the Citadel, the upper floors of which housed my residence and guest rooms for my lov... my female companions, there was a stunning view. I leaned against the stone parapet, exposing my face to the cool night breeze.
The city had long since fallen asleep. However, from time to time, grav-cycles of military patrols flashed among the majestic skyscrapers. Peaceful life, of course, is good. But one should not forget about the safety of citizens. The very fact that an underground movement was organized on the planet spoke for itself. This should not be allowed to happen again.
Tilting my head back, I began to admire the rare clouds. Precipitation is a great rarity for Christophsis. There are not enough open bodies of water here for the water cycle, familiar to everyone since childhood, to work like clockwork. Therefore, cloud cover over the planet's surface is a rare event.
The return to the headquarters of the tenth sector army was even somewhat mundane. No celebrations, no bread and salt. Honestly, I even liked the lack of pomp. One should not stoop to the level of those who have been struck by power.
Taking a sip from the mug, I savored the taste in my mouth. Astonishingly similar to rich black coffee, the caf in this universe had notes of spices. And it invigorated no less than that cup of strong, freshly brewed ground coffee poured on the stomach.
Despite the fact that night reigned around, I understood perfectly that I would not sleep. I'll stand, breathe the air, enjoy the scenery, then go down to the study and get to work. War will never change. And with it—the work of commanders. Only I will have to act against the usual practice: "Punish the innocent, reward the uninvolved." This is a dead end, clearly not for the Eternal Empire of Zakuul.
Indulging in a dispassionate contemplation of the urban landscape, I felt a fluctuation in the Force near me.
"I admit, I've been waiting," I said with a sly smile on my lips, turning to the uninvited guest, taking a sip from my mug. "I was wondering when you would reveal yourself."
"I have come to warn you," his voice sounded like an echo. And, I must admit, if it weren't for the bluish glow around this comrade's person, I would have even shown him respect. Regretting that he was not among my supporters.
"It's good that we can't come to an agreement. Speak, since you've come."
"You are making a big mistake by trusting the Emperor."
"A fresh tale," I chuckled. "Will there be proof?"
"Vitiate has never shared power with anyone," the ghost in spiked armor shook his head. "Why do you think you would be an exception?"
"Why should I answer your questions? It's not me who broke into your place in the middle of the night."
"I pity you. A small boy, resentful of the whole world, who has gained power, immense power—all thanks to Vitiate. It's no wonder you're bending over backward to meet his vision."
"Boring," I took another sip of the drink. "Is there anything new in your repertoire?"
The ghost shook his head.
"You should have already guessed that if Vitiate were as omnipotent as he claims, he wouldn't limit his appearances to such brief episodes in your life."
The smile on my face seemed to have stumped the ghost.
Silly me. I didn't guess. I know perfectly well that the Emperor's powers are limited. Of course, to confirm this theory, I had to walk the line between life and death a couple of times, but... Truth always has its price.
"Will there be anything substantial, besides a pompous sermon?"
"Don't let Vitiate take over again. He is a monster obsessed only with the mania of power in the galaxy. He is once again using the galactic war to gain strength and bring his next insane plan to life," the warning was heard.
"Tell me something I don't know," how I regret that the caf is running out. "I wonder why you didn't want to warn me before it all started. What, karma didn't allow it?"
The ghost shook his head reproachfully.
"Vitiate, even in this state, is dangerous. Even for us—Force ghosts."
"You know, I've always been tormented by a question. How do Sith manage to preserve their consciousness after death? After all, existence as a ghost is primarily a Jedi thing."
"Strong will and a bit of Jedi knowledge," the guest replied.
"Eh," a tired sigh escaped my lips. "And you've been touched by the hand of Marxism-Judaism. Aren't you ashamed? You were such a kosher Sith..."
"You're clowning around," the ghost determined. "It's possible that my warning is too late, and you are afflicted by Vitiate's corruption just like others before you."
"Most likely," I replied indifferently. "But, you know—there's nothing shameful about being a student of a being like Valkorion."
"You don't understand..."
"No, Darth Marr," I made a quick lunge forward, letting the mug with the remaining caf shatter on the attic floor. However, at the cost of such a minor sacrifice, I achieved the effect of surprise.
I didn't need to look at the ghost's face, hidden by a mask. I felt in the Force how he was confused. Well, of course. How many intelligent beings in the history of the Celestial River could afford to grab a Force Ghost by the throat with their bare hands? I think the fingers of one careless sapper would be enough to list them all.
"It's you who doesn't understand," I said, smiling. "All of you—Jedi, Sith, other Force adepts—consider yourselves the elite of this galaxy. Time and again, you play out the same scenario, which leads to wars and incalculable casualties. One day, this had to happen. A sentient being had to be born who would be sick of all this. To your misfortune—that intolerant person turned out to be me."
"You are... stronger than we thought," the ghost said.
"Believe me, Valkorion also doesn't suspect how far I've advanced in my self-training," I said. "And he won't find out. But you, and all those Force Ghosts who are in the galaxy and are just waiting for their time to start causing trouble, will feel everything I have prepared for you, on your own skin."
"You don't understand the power you wield..."
"I don't deny it—I still need to figure out what this madman mixed into my body. But," I smiled. "You won't find out anymore."
And, before the deceased Sith could say anything else to me, the Force around me turned into a miniature black hole, which tore the bluish figure apart, drawing the scraps of the once-mighty Sith into my fingertips.
Absorbing the Ghosts of ancient Sith had already become something habitual. And if in previous times it was difficult and required me to concentrate all my strength. But now, everything went so quickly that I didn't even have time to think about possible problems.
"That's better," I declared, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through my body. Letting the trophy spread through my organism, I returned to contemplating the night city.
Yes, Valkorion is not as strong now as he tries to present himself to others. That is, to me.
However, he needs time to accumulate energy. And to interfere...
But who will allow him to go against my Plans?
Smiling at my own thoughts, I continued to contemplate the serene city.
There can be only one Immortal Emperor in this galaxy.