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The Jedi would never—could never—let themselves see the whole picture. Still they couldn’t see that the Force was an indivisible amalgam of dark and light.

But there were now very few left alive to learn that lesson, even if they could.

And soon, he would ensure that there were none.

Emperor Palpatine was waiting at the palace landing strip to welcome Vader back.

Lekauf ran down the shuttle ramp to stand like an honor guard at its foot, but Vader dismissed him with a nod. The lieutenant seemed grateful to be sent away. It was probably that he wasn’t comfortable now being so close to Palpatine.

“A successful trip, I know,” said the Emperor.

Vader almost enjoyed his dual layer of speech now, with its apparent meaning covering the subtext like a layer of snow, something soft and deceptive concealing hazards that might trip him if he trod carelessly.

“Yes, I think we’ve made progress,” said Vader, meaning the clone templates, but also something else.

“I admire your ability to see both the strategic view and the operational detail. It’s a rare combination.”

“Will you require more staff, Master?” You lost your Hand. You’ll be proud when you see what he becomes. “You appear to be getting busier.”

Palpatine smiled. “I have many staff.”

I know. There’ll be others. “I’ve learned a great deal on this trip.”

“Cloning is a complex and fascinating science, is it not?”

“Indeed it is.”

Vader paused for a moment to let Palpatine pass into the palace vestibule in front of him, standing back between white-armored stormtroopers who were at that moment the only beings around him whom he knew for certain wouldn’t make an attempt on his life.

The thought no longer bothered him. The power of the dark side was his reassurance.

“We should talk about the templates later when I’ve assembled the Moffs,” said Palpatine.

“I’ll await your call, my Master.”

“I know what you will do.”

But I’ll do it sooner than you might expect. The thought was unbidden, and it was neither an unspoken threat nor the seed of a counterplot. It was simply a fleeting Force-vision of the future, Palpatine’s death far short of the millennium he planned to reign.

“I’ll rebuild your army,” said Vader.

“Exactly, and you’ll do it well,” said the Emperor.

Vader waited for Palpatine to disappear from sight before walking to his adapted meditation chamber to feed himself and maintain and clean his suit.

He was no longer a Jedi—or even a man—but the first Jedi rule still rang true somewhere inside him.

Survive.

TWO-EDGED SWORD

Karen Traviss

What can you teach a clone in a few months that a man takes a lifetime to learn?

—Emperor Palpatine to Lord Darth Vader

IMPERIAL TRAINING CENTER, YINCHORR, THE MID RIM

For a dead man, Sa Cuis had a fine lightsaber technique. Lord Vader swung his blade and the two beams of red energy rasped off each other.

Cuis—or one of his clones, anyway—circled and Vader matched him, keeping a constant distance between them. He had no intention of killing the assassin again. Arkanian Microtechnologies had spent more than a year creating this clone of the Dark Jedi, and it would have been wasteful to destroy him or any of his five brothers simply to prove superiority.

Besides, they were men. Vader tried not to lose sight of that. If he had wanted mindless predictability, he would have commissioned droids for the Imperial Army.

He was aware of two people watching the duel intently from the dais set a little above the gymnasium floor: his Master, Emperor Palpatine; and one of his own aides, Lieutenant Erv Lekauf. Part of his mind could sense Lekauf’s discomfort at being so close to the Emperor without Vader beside him.

“Enough,” said Vader, and shut down his lightsaber. The Cuis clone snapped his blade down, too, but watched Vader cautiously until he stood back to allow the clones to continue their lightsaber drill with the instructor. Vader was satisfied. The clones had retained all the speed and sharp reflexes of the unfortunate Emperor’s Hand whose genome was now theirs. He hoped they had somehow inherited