Beyond - Legends Palpatine's Ghost

Palpatine's Ghost

President Daala lay awake, listening to the hum of the transport. Alone, in the presidential suite of Starship One, she felt the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders. Viers was away on a campaign on the Outer Rim. Platok was putting down an uprising on Dantooine. She longed for one of their company, the masculine presence which made her feel whole and fulfilled.

But, alas, there was a galaxy to rule.

She flipped open the data-chlorum. A flood of messages greeted her. So many! The people of Naboo wanted intervention against their neighbors, who they accused of treachery and genocide. And the Gungans—they wanted the same thing! Corellia was boiling with a growing nativist group waging a campaign of terror against alien inhabitants. And who could blame them? It was, after all, their planet. The Jedi whispered abstract premonitions to her, which she smiled and nodded, and looked very concerned, while thinking about how much she would enjoy the bite of a Dantooine stink fruit, or the thrill of riding a genuine Seinar systems landspeeder.

Men and women of action strive to be the one in power, but now, she pined for the days of old, when she was a woman of action, and nothing more! The simple life, she desired.

A robotic voice chimed over the intercom.

“How is Madame president?” it asked.

“I'm okay,” she replied.

“I'm pleased to hear that,” replied the droid. “We will be arriving at our destination in six standard hours.”

She lay on her bed.

“I wish that the galaxy's problems would solve themselves!” she said to herself, mindful of the listening droid.

The droid did not hear her.

“I agree, they do not solve themselves. That is why I worked so tirelessly to change the rules, the underlying principles, the foundation upon which decisions are reached and outcomes are had.”

She looked up.

It was Palpatine. The Emperor.

He smiled.


“Care to listen?”