Star Wars is the Property of George Lucas. I am making no money by writing this story and I own none of the characters. I really appreciate reviews, so please leave one!


The wind roars past my ears as I descend to certain doom. Everything I have fought for is about to be destroyed, my ultimate weapon, my fleet, and my Empire. All of it will crumble without me. The Jedi and the Light they serve are finally triumphant.

At least, that is what Skywalker surely thinks. He thinks he has won. He thinks that the evil emperor that he has so long opposed has finally been vanquished. Even now, as I look up to the rapidly receding platform above me, I can see Vader's weakened and broken form staring down on me. I can sense his feelings of exhausted victory. He too thinks he has won, just like that idiot son of his.

Don't bet on it, traitor.

In another life, I think I would have made for an amazing actor. My ability to completely alter my personality and personal characteristics served me well during my time as Senator and Chancellor. And it shall serve me well again. Right here, right now. I let out a piercing shriek of wrath and hate to complete the illusion of the defeated demon being cast down into hell, the illusion of the broken old tyrant who has been finally defeated, once and for all. After all, in every story this moment is the climax, the be all and end all of the narrative, where the noble heroes triumph over evil and the villain pays for his crimes.

But this isn't some fictional story written by some old fool deluded by antiquated notions of good and evil. This is reality. And reality rarely has such neat and tidy happy endings.

I admit I had not foreseen this particular eventuality. Either young Skywalker would become my latest apprentice, or he would die. I had not foreseen a third option. Had I been younger this would have upset and worried me greatly. But with age comes wisdom, and said wisdom has taught me to accept that which the Darkside has planned for us. After all, this could be a great opportunity for me. Contrary to what Skywalker may think, this is not the end. It is only the beginning.

And with that thought, I "died". There was sure to be much heartfelt mourning for my supposed passing amongst those who professed to be my loyal subjects. There was also bound to be much more rejoicing. You can't please them all, so I don't even bother. But I am not the type of being to be stopped by something as paltry as death. Despite the annihilation of my physical form, I am still aliveā€¦No, not exactly alive. But I'm not exactly dead, now am I? I'm not exactly a ghost either. But I am a consciousness that is aware of itself as a physical entity. I suppose I should just leave it at that, I have much more important things to focus on at the moment. I can feel my non-corporeal being slowly fading into nothing. So I focus on my rage, my hate, and my passion, the fountains of energy from which I derive my power and strength.

Slowly but surely, I begin my travel across the cosmos, a shadow in the black of space. In time, I reach my destination.

Byss.

A nexus of the Darkside, and the home of my greatest secret.

I can't help but laugh to myself. Skywalker and his pathetic little gaggle of friends honestly think they have beaten me. ME! They thought that by simply throwing me down a bottomless chasm they could bring about the end of my reign. While I had not foreseen this happening so soon, I had prepared for this eventuality. By discovering the means of gaining immortality.

Essence Transference; the ability to transfer one's spirit from body to body. The Jedi never really put much effort into uncovering this ability. To them, it was unnatural to resurrect oneself over and over again. They claimed that one should be accepting of death, so that one can live their lives fully, for time is finite for those who cannot escape death's cold grasp. The very thought would have turned my stomach, if I still had one. Death was the ultimate weakness, the ultimate defeat. And the Sith were not weak. I was not weak. The Jedi have since paid dearly for their lack of vision. Their order has been all but destroyed. But the Sith will live forever, because The Dark Lord of the Sith will live forever. What they call unnatural, I call Plan B.

I enter into the body of one of my clones, much like a normal person would put on their clothes. I summon the droids and attendants who watch over my hidden cloning laboratories. There is much work to be done.

For now I shall sit back and allow events to unfold. In a way, Skywalker has inadvertently done me a tremendous favor. This is an excellent opportunity to do some much needed house cleaning. Throughout the ranks of those who claimed to be loyal to my Empire, discontent had begun to ferment. And while their numbers were small, they had the potential to be a significant nuisance to my long term plans. With me supposedly dead, nothing could stop the myriad factions of the Empire from ripping into one another with reckless abandon. But this little Civil War that had resulted from my temporary demise suited my purposes nevertheless. The fighting would purge the Empire of the weak and unfit. It would decimate my potential opponents within my realm and leave my domain purified of the incompetent fools who would see us all dragged down into the filth. The rebels would win many battles in the next few years, of that I have no doubt. But they have already lost the war.

In the short time since my death they have already grown arrogant and secure in their victory. They are still cautious, but in time they will lower their guard. They will come to see themselves as invincible, with history marching on their side. They couldn't be more wrong. At the last minute, when my Empire is at its weakest and the rebels feel that they are on the cusp of absolute victory, I shall return to claim that which is rightfully mine. The rebels will have no idea of what has hit them until it is far too late. The Empire, purged of weakness and yearning for strong leadership, shall embrace me like a long lost parent, and I shall lead them to glory and victory. And the most delicious irony of all is that Skywalker may serve me yet. He is, of course one of the most powerful Force users still alive, and he has had more than one brush with the addictive nature of the Darkside. After all, I deserve the best when it comes to an apprentice.

Despite this minor inconvenience, my reign is as secure as ever. I waited decades to have my revenge on the Jedi all those years ago; I can wait a few more years before I deal with the rebels. Even now, as I scheme with my advisors and supporters, I cannot help but chuckle. My enemies think that the Dark Times have finally come to an end. But they haven't.

The Dark Times have only just begun.