Darkest Knight

14

Brakiss paced the corridors of the Shadow Academy, like an inspector general ensuring that his troops were prepared for imminent combat. He glided along with silent footsteps. His robes whispered around him.

The Master of the Shadow Academy looked too clean, too handsome to be an ominous threat. And although command of the new Dark Jedi rested firmly in his hands, his mind was instead focused on resolving his own doubts.

Brakiss allowed a flicker of anger—anger, the heart of dark side power—to flash through him. His right fist clenched … then he dismissed the emotion. He must not lose control, he told himself, for therein lay a greater weakness. Now he must be strong.

Through his own work, he had created the armored space station as a Dark Jedi training center. He had done it all for the glory of his Great Leader, to help bring about the Second Imperium and restore the galaxy to order and firm paternal control. He had done so much work, risked so many things….

And now the Emperor had snubbed him.

Since the secret Imperial transport had arrived at the Shadow Academy and the four scarlet-cloaked Imperial guards had taken Palpatine’s sealed isolation chamber off to a restricted section, Brakiss had neither seen nor spoken to the Emperor, despite his many requests for an audience. He had been so honored to learn that the Great Leader would visit….

But now Palpatine’s presence threw all of his thoughts and plans into turmoil.

Brakiss glided along the curved corridors. The lights had been dimmed for the sleep cycle; most of the Dark Jedi students had sealed themselves inside their quarters for the evening. A small shift of stormtroopers continued their patrol duties.

Qorl had been successful in training new military recruits from the Lost Ones gang on Coruscant. The TIE pilot had paid particular attention to the burly Norys, who had a knack for Imperial enforcement techniques—though the insolence Norys showed gave Brakiss cause for concern. Still, only rarely did stormtrooper trainees show such … enthusiasm.

As Brakiss drifted along the quiet corridors, he fleetingly wished he were wearing stormtrooper armor himself, so that his footsteps could make resounding, forceful clangs. But unfortunately, such a demonstration of pique would have been deemed unworthy of a Jedi superior.

Brakiss was a powerful man—or so he had thought, until the Emperor’s entourage arrived. The red guards seemed to consider him the lowliest of servants. This was an unfair dismissal of all he had accomplished, he told himself. Perhaps the Emperor truly was ill; perhaps the Second Imperium was in greater danger than Brakiss had feared. He decided it would be best to speak directly to Palpatine, to see for himself.

He had been patient. He had been helpful. He had accommodated every whim passed along by the faceless Imperial guards—but now Brakiss needed answers.

Brakiss took a deep breath to center himself, to focus his thoughts to a razor edge of calm resolve. Propelled by his growing confidence, he turned about and made his way toward the isolated chambers of the Emperor and his followers.

Brakiss would not be turned away this time.

The section reserved for the Emperor’s group seemed even dimmer than the rest of the Shadow Academy. The light had been polarized somehow, so that it contained a reddish tinge that made it difficult to see. The ambient temperature felt colder.

Two red guards stood posted at the intersection of the corridor. They towered over Brakiss as he approached, the folds of their scarlet robes gleaming in the reddish light as if they had been oiled. The guards carried force pikes, ominous-looking weapons that might simply be ornamental … but Brakiss did not want to test that theory.

“No intruders are allowed,” one of the red guards said.

Brakiss stopped short. “I believe you are ill-informed. I am Brakiss, Master of the Shadow Academy.”

“We are aware of your identity. No intruders beyond this point.”

“I am not an intruder. This is my own station,” he said, taking another bold step forward and trying to impart power to his words.

One of the guards shifted his force pike. “This station belongs to the Emperor. He holds the right to claim ownership of everything he considers valuable to his Second Imperium.”

Following that thread of argument would do him no good, Brakiss decided. “I must speak with the Emperor,” he said.

“That is impossible,” the guard answered.

“Nothing is impossible,” Brakiss countered.

“The Emperor sees no one.”

“Then let me speak to him over the comm. I’m certain he will wish to see me once he and I have had a brief discussion.”

“The Emperor has no desire for ‘a brief discussion’—with you or anyone else.”

Brakiss placed his hands on his hips. “And when did the Emperor delegate the authority to speak for him”—he spoke the words scornfully—“to his mere guards? By what right did you become his mouthpiece? I do not recognize your authority, guard. How do I know you’re not holding him hostage? How do I know that he isn’t ill or drugged?”

He crossed his arms over his robed chest. “I accept orders only from the Emperor. Now let me speak to him immediately, or I shall call forth all of my troops on this station and arrest you for mutiny against the Second Imperium.”

The two red guards stood motionless. “It is unwise to threaten us,” they said in unison.

Brakiss didn’t back down. “It is unwise to ignore me,” he replied.

“Very well,” one guard said, and turned to a comm station on the wall. He pushed a button and, though Brakiss heard no words from beneath the armored helmet, the Emperor’s voice instantly slid through the speakers, like sounds made of snakes.

“Brakiss, this is your Emperor. Your insolence annoys me.”

“I merely wish to speak with you, my lord,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “You have not addressed the Shadow Academy or me since your arrival here. I am concerned for your personal well-being.”

“Brakiss, you forget your place. You can do nothing to protect me that I cannot do myself—with ten times the power.”

Brakiss felt his anger dwindling, but he clutched his pride for one last moment. “I have not forgotten my place, my lord. My place is as the Master of the Shadow Academy, to create an army of Dark Jedi for you and your Second Imperium. My place is at your side—not cast out and ignored like an insignificant bureaucrat.”

Palpatine seemed to pause before snapping a reply through the speaker. “Do not forget, Brakiss, that when this station was constructed I saw to it that explosives were planted throughout the superstructure to ensure your obedience. I can destroy this Academy on a whim. Don’t tempt me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my lord,” Brakiss said, feeling his anxiety grow. “But if I am to be part of your plans of conquest, I must be consulted. I must be permitted to give my input, because I alone can provide the valuable fighters you require to defeat the Rebels and their upstart new Jedi Knights.”

The Emperor snapped, “You will learn of my plans when I wish you to learn of them! I require no advice from you or from any other. Perhaps you need to be reminded that you are merely an expendable servant. Do not demand to see me again. I will emerge from my quarters when it suits me.”

With a click like the sound of a breaking bone, the comm unit switched off. Brakiss felt worse than ever. More insignificant, more confused.

The red Imperial guards stood firmly in their positions, holding their force pikes upright. “You will depart now,” one of them said. Without replying, Brakiss spun on his heel and marched in silence down the hollow, echoing corridors of his Shadow Academy.