The dark suns rise as legacies are shaped in shadow.
The deep chambers of Vader's citadel on Mustafar pulsed with heat and darkness. Within the obsidian halls cut from the raw fury of the planet's crust echoed the clash of lightsabers. Red against red. Shadows against flame.
Leia Organa spun, her saber hissing as it met the strike of her brother's. Luke was relentless, driven by an intensity that rivaled even their father's. He lunged again, and she parried with precision. Vader watched, arms crossed, the flicker of pride hidden behind his mask.
"You hesitate, Leia," Vader's voice cut through the room like a blade. "There is no place for hesitation in the dark side."
Leia's jaw clenched. Her eyes—once bright with rebellion—burned with new focus. She launched into a spinning counterattack that forced Luke to retreat, ending the bout with his saber knocked from his hand.
Vader stepped forward.
"You are learning. Both of you." He paused, gaze fixed on his children. "The Jedi taught you weakness. Sentiment. The Sith will teach you to rule."
Luke picked up his weapon silently. He no longer questioned the path—he had seen the rot in the Senate, the betrayal of his former mentors. They had allowed the galaxy to fall. His father's strength offered an alternative: order forged in fire.
Leia still struggled, but in the quiet moments, even she had come to understand. The Republic had failed Alderaan. The Rebellion could only burn so long. Perhaps it was time to build something new—something unbreakable.
Shadows of the Past
Later, in the higher levels of the citadel, Padmé Amidala gazed out at the burning rivers of Mustafar. She stood still, arms folded in flowing black robes. Her body lived by Sith alchemy, but her soul wavered—caught between memory and magic.
Vader joined her silently.
"You're training them," she said without turning. "Both of them."
"They are the future," Vader replied. "Ours."
Padmé's voice dropped to a whisper. "Is there still a future, Anakin? Or only war?"
He said nothing. Behind his armor, the name Anakin stirred like a buried corpse. His children—his wife—they were the only things that anchored him. But Palpatine's grip was strong. Through Padmé, the chains remained.
He reached out, gloved fingers brushing hers. Cold met warmth. Synthetic met real.
She did not pull away.
A Storm Beyond the Stars
On Exegol, within the ancient sanctum of Sith prophecy, Palpatine meditated before the Throne of Shadows. The holocrons of the ancients floated around him, spinning, humming with forgotten knowledge.
And then the vision struck.
He saw a galaxy in flames. Star systems silenced. Beings that knew no pain, no Force, no fear strange, alien warriors sweeping through the stars with living weapons. The Yuuzhan Vong.
Palpatine's eyes snapped open.
It was not a dream. It was the future.
"These creatures… they will undo all," he whispered. "Unless I prepare the galaxy for their coming."
He reached for a nearby communicator. "Summon Thrawn.
The Chiss Strategist
Aboard the Star Destroyer Imperium, Grand Admiral Thrawn stood on the bridge, arms behind his back, his glowing red eyes scanning star charts projected into the air.
When Palpatine's image appeared, he bowed with crisp efficiency.
"You summoned me, my Emperor?"
Palpatine's face was a shroud of cold resolve. "There is a threat coming from beyond our galaxy. One that cannot be swayed by diplomacy or fear. I have seen it. You are to prepare our defences quietly."
Thrawn nodded. "I will require full authorization over the Unknown Regions. My command must be absolute."
"You shall have it. And more," Palpatine said. "You are the blade that will hold back the storm."
As the transmission ended, Thrawn turned to his officers. "Prepare the Chimaera. We enter the Unknown."
The Rebel Strikes
In secret bunkers beneath Chandrila, Mon Mothma sat with Bail Organa and General Dodonna.
"We've made contact with three more systems ready to join the Alliance," Bail reported. "Our fleet grows. The people are tired of the Emperor's chains."
Mon Mothma's face remained solemn. "But they are also afraid. Every strike we make is met with ten times the retaliation. We need a symbol something to unify them."
Bail's eyes flicked to a holomap of Imperial sectors. "Then it's time to hit one of the core systems."
General Dodonna raised an eyebrow. "That would draw the Empire's full attention."
"Good," Mon Mothma said. "It's time they see we are no longer shadows."
The Rebellion planned its most daring raid yet: the raid on the Kuat Drive Yards
Imperial Retaliation
Palpatine's response was merciless.
Stormtroopers descended upon suspected rebel sympathizers. Imperial Star Destroyers locked down major trade routes. Communication hubs were seized. Dissenters disappeared in the night.
Whole worlds like Corellia, Brentaal IV, and Cato Neimoidia were placed under direct military governance.
From the Imperial Palace, Palpatine spoke:
"This Empire was forged to bring peace and stability. Let no traitor believe they can escape judgment. Order shall not be undone."
In his private chambers, he whispered darker commands.
To Vader: "There are whispers… Obi-Wan lives."
Vader's breath deepened. "Where?"
"Unknown. But find him. And finish what you failed to do on Mustafar."
Vader nodded. "He will not escape me again."