the_starkiller: (Galen | Unsure About This)
OOC: Follows this thread.

Galen pulled at his collar, trying to get himself some breathing room. Ten seconds later, he did it again, to just as little effect. He understood that it was a losing battle, trying to get comfortable in this new skin, but it wasn't one he was willing to give up just yet. With more than a little chagrin, Galen realized just how well that idea summed up most of his life.

As he and Mara approached the hotel, Galen's eyes picked out at least two entry points they could have used without rousing the least bit of suspicion. A little push of the Force to influence a few lazy-looking security guards and they could have been inside the hotel and free to roam almost totally undetected. But no, for once, it was Mara whose plan involved a kind of frontal assault: walking in the front doors of the ballroom with forged invitations.

He felt like the country cousin, invited to the big city. If Galen had been from one of the backwater Rim planets like Tattooine , he couldn't have felt more out of place in his stiffly-ironed tunic and trousers, tall leather boots that were so new they almost creaked with every step, and a collar that felt as though it were digging into the skin under his chin. Mara, for her part, not only looked stunningly beautiful, but utterly at home. If he hadn't known better-- and, truth be told, have been having particularly enthusiastic sex with her on a regular basis since leaving the medical ship-- he would never have recognized her.

They were ushered into the main ballroom and Galen gratefully took an offered glass of some bubbling alcoholic drink. As he raised it to his lips, he thought he caught a familiar silhouette out of the corner of his eye. Shaking the phantom off to nerves, he glanced back at Mara. "I hear Rion VII isn't one hundred percent stable, tectonically. The whole hotel could be leveled in seconds and no one would suspect," he whispered, half-joking.
the_starkiller: (Galen | Unsure About This)
Ten Things You Don't Understand

1. Why I betrayed Darth Vader for the Rebellion.
2. Why I betrayed the Rebellion for the Emperor.
3. Why I tried to betray the Emperor and kill him.
4. Why the Emperor didn't just kill me then.
5. Why the Emperor didn't just kill me after my last failure.
6. Why Mara wants to be equals now.
7. Why Mara doesn't think she can learn Sith powers.
8. Why I can't cast Force lightning with my artificial arm.
9. Why Mara doesn't use the power she does have over me more often.
10. What my vision of the future really means.
the_starkiller: (Starkiller | Kneeling Before Master)
OOC: Follows this thread.

The observation room had been repaired and rebuilt since the last time Starkiller had been there. His boots clicking softly on the metal of the long catwalk that stretched from the lift to the central platform below Palpatine's throne, he could not help but glance around as he walked. There, down and to his right, at the base of the massive windows that looked out into space, was where Starkiller had finished his battle against Vader, leaving the Sith Lord a smoking, broken hulk. It should have been his moment of triumph, ascending to the place of the Emperor's apprentice, the next step to becoming a Sith himself.

But then something still weak and foolish within him caused Starkiller to turn his lightsaber against Palpatine himself, who had taught the would-be Sith the price for betraying the wrong Master.

Object Lesson )

OOC: [insanejournal.com profile] emperors_hand included with permission.
the_starkiller: (Starkiller | Apprentice Costume)
The box shook as Starkiller slowly guided it across the training room. It didn't weigh more than a few dozen kilograms, but he found himself straining with the effort of simply keeping it off the ground and moving. It was ridiculous. Months had passed since he'd awoken on the medlab table, once more saved from death by the will of a Sith Lord intent on using him and his strength for evil deeds. Months since he'd had to begin getting used to the mechanical right arm and leg that had replaced his ruined limbs.

The Force didn't reside in his hand, and yet when Starkiller tried to focus through gestures with his artificial arm, the result was a weak echo of his former ability. With his left hand, it was as though nothing had changed. His Master had punished him time and again for such weakness, and Starkiller had improved, but he was far from the warrior he had been.

Finally, the box crashed to the floor. Before Starkiller could curse himself, he was slammed to the floor, onto his knees with the Force. The double doors to the training room hissed open and his Master, the Emperor Palpatine entered. "Starkiller, you continue to disappoint me. You will need to do far better if you wish to take a true place at my side."

Starkiller bowed his head. "I am sorry, my Master."

The Emperor circled near, and Starkiller's flesh chilled. "I care nothing for your apologies, only for your usefulness. Which brings me to your first assignment as my operative."

"What is your bidding, my Master?"

"You are to pilot a cloaked Sith Interceptor to the planet Correllia. There you will rendezvous with one of the Emperor's Hands on a mission I wish completed immediately. Thus, you and the Hand both have orders to assassinate the same individual, to see who will prevail. You will fulfill my wishes or both of you will perish."

"Yes, my Master."

Palpatine was gone a moment later, and with one last hateful look at the box on the floor, Starkiller left, boarding the Sith Interceptor and heading toward Correllia.

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Starkiller/The Secret Apprentice/Galen Marek

January 2010

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