The prison world grew silent.
Abeloth was gone.
No lingering presence remained. No trace of her madness echoed through the Force. The being that had terrified civilizations for untold millennia had been erased completely.
Yet her death was not the greatest event that had occurred.
The true consequence stood upon the broken wasteland.
Emperor Palpatine.
Darth Palpus.
Father and son.
Victors.
The power flowing through them was unlike anything either had experienced before.
The Force no longer felt like an ocean surrounding them.
It felt like an extension of their own existence.
Palpatine slowly raised a hand.
Far above the planet, clouds shifted.
Continents trembled.
Mountains moved.
The Emperor lowered his arm.
The world settled.
A smile spread across his face.
The scars that had once marked him had vanished long ago. Now even the weight of age seemed absent. He appeared stronger. Sharper. More complete.
Power radiated from him naturally.
The Force itself bent around his presence.
"My son."
Palpus turned toward him.
"We have done it."
His voice carried genuine satisfaction.
A rare thing.
For decades, perhaps centuries, every action had been part of a larger plan.
Now one of the greatest obstacles before them had fallen.
Yet Palpus felt something else.
Something calling.
Something ancient.
And judging by his father's expression, Palpatine felt it as well.
"We have achieved much," Palpus said.
"But there is still more to claim."
The Emperor nodded.
"The Font of Power."
"And the Pool of Knowledge."
Father and son looked toward the distant mountains.
The final gifts of Mortis awaited.
The journey took little time.
The cave that once belonged to Abeloth stood hidden within the depths of a mountain range older than recorded history.
Ancient energies saturated the region.
Even now, with Abeloth destroyed, the Force remained unusually concentrated.
Palpatine and Palpus entered without hesitation.
The deeper they traveled, the stronger the energies became.
Finally they arrived.
The Font of Power.
A lake of shimmering energy stretched before them.
Its waters glowed with impossible colors.
Not merely blue.
Not merely gold.
Every color.
Every possibility.
The liquid appeared alive.
The concentrated essence of the Force itself.
Palpatine stared at it.
Even he felt awe.
The waters blocked their path.
A vast river of raw Force energy separated them from the center chamber.
Palpus raised his hand.
Reality obeyed.
The waters parted.
Not displaced.
Commanded.
A pathway formed through the middle of the lake.
The Font itself seemed to recognize them.
Or perhaps submit.
Neither possibility was reassuring.
They walked forward.
At the center of the chamber stood the source.
The heart of the Font.
A spring of pure Force energy emerging from the depths of the planet.
For several moments neither spoke.
Then Palpatine knelt.
He cupped the glowing liquid within his hands.
And drank.
Palpus followed.
The effect was immediate.
The Force exploded through them.
Not violently.
Perfectly.
Every cell within their bodies changed.
Strength increased.
Perception sharpened.
Knowledge expanded.
The limitations of flesh weakened.
Their connection to reality deepened.
Visions flooded their minds.
Ancient civilizations.
Long-dead Force users.
The rise and fall of empires.
Secrets forgotten before the Republic existed.
The Force revealed everything.
And they absorbed it all.
Hours passed.
Perhaps days.
Time held little meaning within the Font.
When they finally stood, both had changed.
Not physically.
Fundamentally.
Palpatine opened his eyes.
Stars appeared within them.
Galaxies reflected in golden irises.
The Force moved effortlessly around him.
A thought could alter weather.
A gesture could reshape mountains.
His understanding had expanded beyond anything recorded by Sith or Jedi.
Nearby, Palpus experienced similar growth.
Knowledge flowed continuously through his mind.
Engineering.
Science.
The Force.
History.
Possibilities.
Millions of concepts interconnected perfectly.
The universe appeared less chaotic now.
More understandable.
More controllable.
Satisfied, they left the cave.
Their objectives had been achieved.
Abeloth was dead.
The Font claimed.
The Pool's wisdom absorbed.
The future belonged to them.
Meanwhile, across the galaxy, another future was being decided through war.
The Yuuzhan Vong offensive was collapsing.
System after system fell back under Imperial control.
The invaders who had once threatened extinction now fought merely for survival.
Grand Admiral Thrawn stood upon the bridge of his flagship.
A massive tactical display illuminated the command center.
Red symbols marked remaining Vong territories.
Every day more disappeared.
Every day Imperial fleets advanced.
The Chiss strategist observed the battlefield calmly.
"Report."
An officer straightened.
"The enemy is retreating along all sectors."
"Expected."
"Their losses exceed projections."
Thrawn studied the display.
"They have exhausted their strategic flexibility."
The officer nodded.
The Vong had adapted repeatedly.
But so had the Empire.
The difference was scale.
The Empire possessed resources beyond imagination.
Every lost ship was replaced.
Every damaged world rebuilt.
Every setback absorbed.
The Yuuzhan Vong lacked that luxury.
Now the balance had shifted permanently.
A new offensive began.
This time the Empire advanced.
Thousands of Xeyon-class Star Destroyers surged toward the galactic rim.
Super-heavy fleets followed.
Interdiction fields prevented retreat.
Supply routes were severed.
Entire Vong formations disappeared beneath overwhelming firepower.
The war had entered its final phase.
On countless worlds, the Prima Superiors continued their campaign.
The massive warriors descended wherever resistance remained.
Vong strongholds fell one after another.
Entire armies vanished beneath disciplined assaults.
Sith lightning illuminated battlefields.
Heavy laser batteries reduced biological fortresses to ash.
Lightsabers carved through enemy commanders.
No mercy.
No survivors.
The Emperor's orders were clear.
The Yuuzhan Vong threat would end permanently.
Across the galaxy, billions watched the war through the Imperial News Network.
A familiar reporter appeared upon holoscreens.
Behind her rotated images of liberated worlds and victorious fleets.
"Good evening, citizens of the Empire."
Her voice carried confidence.
"Today marks another major victory in the ongoing campaign against the Yuuzhan Vong invasion."
The image shifted.
Destroyed Vong vessels filled the screen.
"Imperial forces under Grand Admiral Thrawn have successfully secured twelve additional sectors."
Applause erupted from public viewing centers.
The report continued.
"Humanitarian relief efforts remain underway across formerly occupied systems."
Images changed once more.
Medical facilities.
Reconstruction projects.
Food convoys.
Engineers rebuilding cities.
"Imperial Medical Corps teams have treated over two hundred million civilians affected by the conflict."
The screen displayed fleets delivering supplies.
"Additional aid shipments continue arriving daily."
More images followed.
Farm worlds receiving equipment.
New housing districts under construction.
Schools reopening.
Trade routes restored.
"The Emperor has authorized unprecedented reconstruction funding to ensure all affected citizens receive support."
Across the Empire, approval ratings climbed once again.
The people saw results.
Worlds recovered.
Lives improved.
The Empire endured.
Far beyond the battlefield, aboard the Doom, Palpatine and Palpus prepared to leave the Maw.
The prison world shrank behind them.
Its purpose fulfilled.
Palpatine stood overlooking the stars.
"The war is ending."
"Yes."
"And afterward?"
Palpus considered the question.
Their ambitions had never stopped at survival.
Or even domination.
The galaxy itself was merely the beginning.
"The future."
Palpatine smiled.
A dangerous smile.
"Indeed."
The Force bent around them.
Space folded.
Distance ceased to matter.
In an instant they vanished.
The Doom continued its journey home.
Its masters no longer aboard.
Coruscant.
The heart of the Empire.
The capital world shimmered beneath endless lights.
Billions of citizens continued their daily lives unaware of the changes occurring beyond their perception.
Within the Imperial Palace, two figures appeared.
Father and son.
More powerful than ever before.
The Force flowed around them like a living storm.
Palpatine looked out across his galaxy.
His Empire.
His victory.
The Clone Wars had forged it.
The destruction of the Jedi had secured it.
The defeat of Abeloth had strengthened it.
The coming defeat of the Yuuzhan Vong would solidify it.
For the first time in decades, no immediate threat remained.
Only opportunity.
Only expansion.
Only destiny.
And as Coruscant's endless lights stretched toward the horizon, Emperor Palpatine smiled.
The age of survival was ending.
The age of conquest was about to begin.