The Jedi kept the peace, and all was calm.
Meanwhile, the Senate gradually transformed from a governing body into a cesspool mired in bureaucracy and bribery, and the position of Chancellor became almost hereditary. Finis Valorum—who was later replaced by Palpatine—was the sixth representative of his dynasty to hold the office. Not consecutively, of course—no one would have allowed that—but still, at least once every century, a member of that family rose to the chancellorship. Over time, however, the position itself became increasingly hollow.
What could one say? The "emergency powers" Palpatine now struggled to obtain had been commonplace for Chancellors a thousand years earlier. All this time, the Jedi guarded the Republic like silent shadows.
The Jedi way preached peace and harmony… but it also bred stagnation.
The Sith walked a path of destruction, yet in their wake followed an invisible shadow of development and creation. Progress. When the galaxy was torn apart by countless battles between Jedi and Sith, it teemed with life. New technologies emerged, discoveries were made that reshaped everything. And now, after long centuries of stagnation, the time had come for another upheaval. True, such change required a catalyst—an impulse.
And Palpatine became that impulse.
He was a Sith, and that imposed certain limitations. But… he was, so to speak, the next link in the chain. He took only what he needed and acted as he pleased, without looking back. In particular, he abandoned Bane's Rule and other aspects of the Sith doctrine—and that, in truth, was the correct decision. As a result, he forged an Empire that truly became the First Galactic Empire: one that encompassed most of the galaxy, not merely the portion known at the time. During Palpatine's reign, new regions were discovered—or long-forgotten ones reclaimed.
Yes, the Empire was far from perfect. In many ways. But… it existed for only a little over twenty years. Twenty-three, to be exact. A new generation of sentient beings had not yet grown up, and not all of the Republic's vices had been eradicated. And the Sith—the rulers of the Empire—were cruel. Power-hungry. Merciless.
But without them—without the Empire—there would have been no Alliance, no Rebellion. The pilots of Rogue Squadron and countless other units would never have taken to the skies. Admirals would have languished in obscurity, never given the chance to reveal their talents. There would have been no Leia, no Luke—not as they ultimately became. Hell, even the very existence of Han Solo as a brilliant pilot and smuggler would be highly questionable.
Perhaps the Republic, as it stands now, could have defeated the Yuuzhan Vong… More precisely, it undoubtedly would have defeated them—the Jedi should not be underestimated. But at what cost? Perhaps a quarter of the Galaxy's population would not have perished — a quarter of the population could only have survived. I... won't take it upon myself to make such drastic changes. The responsibility was too great, and the outcome too unpredictable. I would never even consider opposing it outright.
Perhaps all these events were the will of the Force itself. Who knows? Where am I—and where are they? I am not the Chosen One. Far from it…
"You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"
So Obi-Wan Kenobi said.
But… how can there be balance if one side of the scales is empty? Perhaps Skywalker did restore balance—albeit in a twisted way. Still, these were only speculations, unsupported by hard facts. The same events could be interpreted in countless ways.
But now… now, looking at these children…
I had often wondered how much Skywalker was "in his right mind" when he slaughtered the younglings. And the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that he had completely lost it—because I could find no other explanation for his actions. He had butchered the same Tusken tribe on Tatooine—children included. Even if that had been done in a fit of rage, still… he didn't reach the younglings—those who had been killed by him—immediately. First came the massacre of the Jedi, the deaths of his own men from the 501st Legion… Yes, he chose Palpatine's side consciously—he needed him.
I became even more certain of this after meeting him in person. Yes, it was brief—first impressions can be deceiving, and all that—but… you can't completely hide one's essence. In some ways, I even understood him—not as a Jedi, but as a person, because calling him a Jedi in the full sense of the word was difficult. He never went through the foundations they studied from early childhood. He had already doubted many things and denied many others. He was impulsive, harsh… and at the same time, utterly unprincipled.
The concept of honor meant little to him.
No—that wasn't entirely true. When it concerned himself or those dear to him, he simply broke the rules to suit his needs. Shortly after becoming Sidious's apprentice, taking the name Darth Vader and swearing loyalty to the Sith, he told Amidala that he was ready to kill Palpatine and seize his throne.
"Together, You and I Can Rule the Galaxy, Make Things the Way We Want Them to Be!"A revealing moment.
Damn it… his wife was pregnant. Pregnant, for the Force's sake—and he calmly murdered children. Without hesitation. I think Amidala didn't want to live precisely because she felt this. She was ready to forgive the murder of the Jedi; she forgave him many things—but not the slaughter of children. And Obi-Wan… well done, dumping such details on her. A diplomat to the core.
Can I—if not change history—at least bend it slightly? Is there even the slightest chance to keep the younglings alive?..
It would be unimaginably difficult. Almost impossible. The Empire... is a complex construct, but I like the Republic even less. Still, these gifted children could become, in the distant future, the force that would one day crush the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. Yet such an outcome would require steps that even I was not entirely comfortable taking.
But… things rarely unfold the way we want them to.
Do I have the determination to choose a different path—to try?
...No! Enough!
"Do. Or do not. There is no try."
Yoda said that. And damn him, he was right.
But there was one more line to add: Stop tormenting yourself.
And I truly had no choice.
I promised Ahsoka…
I promised!