This thread is for both special editions of the existing stories in The United. Hope you enjoy.
The mid morning is a bright one on the sterile, white streets of Imperial Center Monument. The Monument, an offering to the brave warriors of the Clone Wars, is as gargantuan as the war it was created to honor. Devoid of permantent residents within the 10 miles of its confines, the Monument lacks the intimacy of the surrounding early Republic Archechture.
But not today, today is a day of celebration. It is, afterall, the second Empire Day. Coruscanti and off-worlder alike join in the merriment of the occasion...many opting to take in the festivities at the Monument.
Near the boxes of the Military High Command and Imperial elite, a crowd of nearly two million flock to see the heroic zenith of the age, Emperor Palpatine.
The Emperor stands tall, hiding his digusting and distorted scares from the public under his robes. Similarly, The Empire has activley tried to supress any resistance left over from the Clone Wars.
As The Emperor gazes upon the crowd, he cannot help but feel a certain twinge of hate. They're inferior, he'd often say to himself, and hence do not have a right to exist. This justification could not, however, supress Palpatines inherit logic. Where would he be without the inferior rabble? he would often realize. That realization enraged him. Rage that was turned into into motivation. Motivation that would, of course, go towards the implimentation of his ultimate goal...to become the Force persona.
The Senatorial procession makes its way down the street, turning sharply into the Executive boxes. A young human male of dark pigment carries the banner of the former Galactic Republic ahead of two Imperial Security officers in smart blue uniforms.
Behind them, a small cockade of blue robed Senate guards march proudly.
The crowds quiet as the standard bearer approaches the executive arena. He passes a column of Clone Troopers, who are unsuprisingly at the ready. The column of soldiers is flanked by Imperial Veterans of war, who wear antiquanted Phase I armor.
Behind these troops, several Clone Troopers stand arranged in an eerie living statue like pose…each precise to a fault.
And in front of all of this stands the commander, arms crossed proudly at his back, his smug expression atypical of a “fit and willing Imperial son”.
Under the Emperors box severial Imperial Senators stand, notebly Mon Mothma and Bail Organa. Beside them stand many of the Emperors closest advisors, wearing simple and dark colored robes.
It was once said by the now deceased poet Jahkaus Amoul that the “Greatness and pomp that was once the regal Galactic Republic is now gone, replaced only by cold unfeeling utility. In essence, the Galaxy has been made sterile, and callous,”.
Despite being a rose colored image of the late Republic, it is true. Society had lost an ornate elegance since the rise of The Emperor. This is represented in the attire of the Emperors advisors and friend’s, who feel that there is no longer a need or a want for unnecessary pleasures. Only for what is now.
As the Senatorial procession advances, a human male wearing common clothes jumps forward with a blaster and fires it into the heart of the young standard bearer.
Shouting “Long Remember the Death of the Republic!”, the man is quickly taken down by the Clonetroops. Inadvertantly, the commander of the the soldiers is brought down by friendly fire.
The crowds panic and begin to flee. Soon The Emperor could take no more: “STOP! This is a time for celebration! We shall celebrate the sacrifice of this brave matyr just as we shall celebrate the self-elimination of this barbarian!
And so the people did return, trusting in the judgment of their beloved leader.
After all, he did survive the Jedi Rebellion.
And like the Jedi Rebellion, the assaignation of the Standard Bearer was nothing more than yet another insidious manuever by the great manipulator. The Galaxy was once again about to be plunged into night.