Part 9 (1/2)

His TIE fighter stormed into the fray from out of nowhere, firing on one of the Corellian guns.h.i.+ps, leaving black scorch marks as he strafed along its side. Other TIE fighters joined him, flying in a barely recognizable attack pattern. These fleet members were obviously untrained, having spent very little time even in simulators. But the chaos served the new pilots well as the s.h.i.+ps flew around each other, blasting and pummeling with no set goal but to cause damage.

The Rebel fleet responded with heavy turbolaser fire, lancing out in all directions.

With a blinding glare, one of the Star Destroyers blew up, its command turret in flames.

Another Star Destroyer went reeling, its defenses down; it turned in an attempt to limp away. The Rebel fleet pursued, all weapons blazing.

The Second Imperium was losing. Losing!

Qorl shot after the fleeing s.h.i.+ps. Some of the TIE fighters sped off into s.p.a.ce... though Qorl had no idea where they intended to go. Their flags.h.i.+ps were destroyed and the Shadow Academy was under fire. Did they intend to give up?

”Surrender is betrayal,” he muttered to himself-and flew directly into the Rebel fla s.h.i.+p's line of fire.

I 9 Turbolaser bolts shot past, but Qorl dove forward, firing his insignificant laser cannons and diving down the gullet of the beast. He would never give up. This would be his final flash of glory.

The Rebels improved their aim-and the cross fire struck him. Qorl closed his eyes behind his TIE helmet, expecting to vanish in a bright puff of flame, a candle burning for his Emperor.

But the energy weapons had only managed to clip one of his engines and damage part of his power array.

Qorl's TIE fighter spun out of control, away from the battle fleet. Even in his crash restraints, he was thrown from side to side inside his tiny c.o.c.kpit. Qorl held on, expecting his s.h.i.+p to explode at any moment... all the while careening farther and farther away from the continuing s.p.a.ce battle.

Still spinning, he saw that gravity had caught him. He was cras.h.i.+ng again, plummeting toward the jungle moon ofyavin....

BRAKISS RACED HIS high-speed, one person shuttle away from Yavin 4 and streaked back toward his precious Shadow Academy. He punched the coded controls that would automatically open the launch-bay doors and provide him clear pa.s.sage back into the safety of the Imperial training station.

The s.p.a.ce battle did not concern him. It was just one other event that had gone wrong today.

His heart still pounded from his lightsaber battle with Skywalker down at the temple ruins. His thoughts spun, filled with the resonating words of his former Master.

Anger and despair swirled like an uncontrollable storm through his mind, through his emotions.

Every method he knew failed to bring his thoughts back to the cold, quiet levels he required to draw on his fullest powers.

Brakiss even attempted to use some of the hated calming techniques Skywalker had shown him back in his incognito student days-but nothing worked.

Everything was crumbling. His grandiose plans, his carefully trained Dark Jedi, the troops of the Second Imperium-it all faltered here on the verge of what should have been his greatest triumph, the hammer blow that would shake the galaxy. The destruction of the Jedi academy should have been a simple victory.

The Emperor would destroy Brakiss for this failure, but for now he could think only that the Emperor himself remained their last hope. Their only hope. Brakiss would accept his punishment later; for now he needed to do everything in his power to bring about a victory.

He brought his shuttle to dock in the nearly empty bay of the Shadow Academy, where not long ago rows of TIE fighters and TIE bombers had prepared for battle.

Tamith Kai had launched her armored battle platform, riding down from orbit with her stormtroopers and Zekles squad of dark warriors. They had been proud, confident, sure of crus.h.i.+ng the hght-side Jedi....

Brakiss climbed stiffly out of his shuttle, ^ straightening his silvery robes, trying unsuccessfully to regain his dignity. Not wanting to be without a Jedi blade, he armed himself from a weapons alcove in the wall with another of the ma.s.s-produced lightsahers.

But how could he defend himself? He had seen Tamith Kai's battle platform plunge into the river, a flaming hulk of molten slag.

Zekles Dark Jedi had been routed, the TIE fighter squadrons mostly destroyed-and now Brakiss watched the Second Imperium's powerful new fleet being trounced by Rebel battles.h.i.+ps that had appeared out of nowhere and had somehow deactivated the Imperial s.h.i.+elds!

Brakiss strode out of the docking bay into the near-deserted Shadow Academy. All capable troops had been sent to the surface.

Only a few command teams remained here to keep the Imperial station secure.

The sterile corridors should have been hosting a victory celebration, but instead the place seemed like a tomb, an abandoned derelict. The Emperor must find some way to save them, Brakiss told himself, to turn the tide of battle so that the Second Imperium could rule the galaxy after all.

Palpatine had cheated death not once, but twice. After he had perished the first time aboard the second Death Star during the battle of Endor, he had managed to resurrect himself, using hidden clones to prolong his life. And though all those clones had presumably been destroyed, thirteen years later the Emperor was once again back from the dead-without an explanation this time.

Any man who accomplished such feats could surely manage to wrest victory away from a hodgepodge gang of Rebels and criminals, couldn't he?

Holding his head up, trying to summon Imperial pride and hope, Brakiss marched down the steel-plated corridors toward the isolated section of the station. He had to see the Emperor, and he would not be turned away.

The fate of the entire war hung on the next few moments!

Outside the sealed doorways stood two of the four scarlet-clad Imperial guards. They wore sinister, projectile-shaped helmets with only a narrow black slit through which they could see. The two guards stiffened, crossing their force pikes to deny him entry. Brakiss strode forward without hesitating. ”Move aside,” he said. ”I must speak with the Emperor.”

”He has requested not to be disturbed,” said one of the guards.

”Disturbed?” Brakiss said, appalled to hear the words. ”Our fleet is going down in defeat; our Dark Jedi are being captured. Our TIE fighters are being shot down. Tamith Kai is dead. The Emperor should already be disturbed. Move aside. I must speak with him.”

”The Emperor speaks with no one.” They moved one step forward, holding out their weapons.

Brakiss felt fresh anger boiling within. It gave him strength. The power flowing in his veins tapped directly into the dark side of the Force. He could see why the Nightsister Tamith Kai had found the experience so exhilarating that she kept herself in a constant state of pent-up fury.

Brakiss had no patience for these meddling scarlet-clad obstacles. They were traitors to the Second Imperium-and he responded, letting the Force flow from deep within him.

His lightsaber dropped out of his billowing sleeve and fell firmly into his hand. His finger depressed the power b.u.t.ton. A long rippling blade extended out, but Brakiss did not use it as a threat. He had grown tired of threats, of word games and diversions that prevented progress. He unleashed his anger.

”I have had enough of this!” He struck wildly from side to side. His anger narrowed his vision to a tunnel of black static that surrounded his two targets as they scrambled to use their force pikes against him. But Brakiss was a powerful Jedi. He knew the ways of the dark side, and the red Imperial guards had no chance against him.

In less than a second, Brakiss had struck both of them down.

He activated the sealed door mechanism.

The security pa.s.s codes argued with him, so he used the Force to blow out the circuits. With his bare hands he wrenched the stubborn door aside, then strode into the Emperor's private chambers.

”My Emperor, you must help us,” he called.

The light around him was red and dim, hot.

He blinked, finding it difficult to see-but found no one else around.

”Emperor Palpatine!” he shouted. ”The battle turns against us. The Rebels are defeating our troops. You must do something His words echoed back at him, but he heard nothing else: no response, no movement. He pushed on into another room, only to find it filled with a black-walled isolation chamber, its armored door sealed shut, its side panels held in place with heavy burnished rivets. This was the enclosed compartment the red guards had removed from the special Imperial shuttle. Bulky worker droids had lifted the heavy container out of the shuttle's hold and carried it here.

Brakiss knew the Emperor had secluded himself inside the chamber, protected from outside influences. Brakiss had feared that the Emperor's health was failing, that Palpatine needed this special life-support environment just to survive.

But at the moment, Brakiss didn't care. He was tired of having doors shut in front of him.

He, the Master of the Shadow Academy, one of the most important members of the Second Imperium, should not be brushed aside like some civil servant.

He pounded on the armored door. ”My Emperor, I demand that you see me!