Chapter 1

The metal door slides open, inviting the betrayer into the ancient metal castle. "Father I'm home," the betrayer said, as his right foot crossed over the door's threshold and touched the sleek dark floor. His words bounced off the tall cold metal walls, announcing his entrancing over and over as if the father didn't sense his own son as soon as he touched down on the planet. "Has the Voice of the Emperor finally become silent, or are you so scared of your own flesh and blood that you won't welcome me into your home?" The betrayer continues to taunt, as he roams through the hallways of the ancient castle looking for his human promotion. "Slaying my master makes me a Darth, but slaying my master that's been the Emperor of the Sith for thirteen hundred years, well, that just makes me a God." The betrayer ridicules, knowing his father, master, and the emperor has heard every word. "Arcann," the Voice of the Emperor or his lesser known title of Darth Vitiate; his words traveled down the castle halls and doorways, until finding its way into the ear of his son named Arcann. "Finally father speaks," Arcann says as he makes his way towards his father's voice.

The two figures stood only a few meters apart in the castle's hangar as they each took in the other's appearance. Darth Vitiate stood tall, and proud in his black robe, which was covered by a triangular white chest plate with gold trimming. A small dragon head stood at the top point of the triangle plate only a few inches from his neck. His son Arcann, rested his fingers on his lightsaber that clung to his right hip. He always emulated his father and that showed in his white, gold, and silver robe that snuggly wrapped around his chest. They didn't need to talk, their stances spoke louder than anything else. They both grasped their lightsabers and charged towards each other.

The lightsabers met as a red and yellow saber clashed against each other. Light sparked off the blades as they ground against each other, each blade trying to vie for a better position. Arcann's face scrunched in concentration as he learned that he was not as physically strong as his father, as his own blades crept closer to his throat, as his father's lightsaber pushed against his own. Knowing that he couldn't win in this contest, Arcann released one hand off his blade, gathering the force into his now open palm, and shoved it towards Darth Vitiate.

The wave of the force rammed into Darth Vitiate, forcing him off the ground and into the air as his back slammed into the upper part of the wall. The wall groaned against the impact, as the Emperor slid down the wall and back onto his feet. His red blade hissed in the air asking its master for vengeance, to bring the one that caused him pain to heel. Blood dripped down the inside of his cheek, he must have accidentally bit the inside of his mouth as he rammed into the wall. "I can't remember the last time I tasted my own blood," Darth Vitiate voiced out as he spat his red spit onto the ground.

Arcann's face lit up as he saw the red spit hit the ground, "this might just be the first time I have ever caused you to bleed father, just a little payback from all the blood I shed from our training spars." Arcann leaped high into the air towards his father, his two hands raising the lightsaber above his head, as he slammed his yellow lightsaber down on his father's head. Darth Vitiate raised his hand holding the blade to block the downward swing of his son's lightsaber as the collision brought him to his knee. Darth Vitiate's free hand started to crackle as blue lighting ripped through his fingers and arced towards his son's chest. Arcann screamed as lighting chard the skin on his chest, the smell of burnt skin filled the hangar air. Arcann's body recoiled back in pain, allowing Darth Vitiate to rise back up, his red saber hissing louder than ever in glee. The red saber rose and hovered mere centimeters from the left side of Arcann's face. The screams from the lighting were nothing compared to the screams now, as the left side of Arcann's face was being melted off from the heat of the red saber. So lost in the pleasure of victory was Darth Vitiate that he didn't notice a metal blade slide into Arcann's left hand from inside of his robe sleeve. Arcann's right hand swung with his yellow lightsaber towards the left side of his father's chest, Darth Vitiate lazily brought his red saber to block his son's weak attempt to kill him. With all his might Arcann stabbed the concealed metal blade with his left hand into the chest of his father, the Voice of the Emperor.

The blade drove through his white chest plate, plunging into the side of his heart. Darth Vitiate summoned the force and shoved his son across the room. The Voice of the Emperor shuffled his body towards his private ship using one hand to stabilize the blade in his chest. He knew he couldn't pull the blade out, although it was killing him, it was also the only thing plugging the hole. He knew the ship was his survival, it had everything he could ever need. He just had to make it, the medical droid could keep him alive long enough to find a body to transfer his consciences into. It was how he lived so long, every hundred or so years he would find a new body to take over. His hand pressed against the dense metal of his ship's hull, as he slowly made it to the entrance of the open ship.

He so desperately wanted to rush to the medical wing of the ship, but Darth Vitiate shoved that panicked thought from his head. He needed to leave, anywhere as long as it was far from here. He continued to shuffle to the cockpit of the ship, sliding into the pilot's chair just as his feet would have given out. The ship hummed as it powered on. Black dots were filling his vision, he knew he didn't have long, as he used both hands to type in the hyperspace coordinates into the autopilot system on the console. He turned on the communication to the medical wing as he verbally commanded the medical droid to come get him from the cockpit. He could feel the ship's doors close as it rose from the ground, and turning itself to the direction of the hangar door. Soon the ship was out of the hangar and flying towards the stars. The medical droid arrived in the cockpit, as it noticed its master's fainted body slumped in the cockpit seat. The droid began to methodically move the body, careful not to disrupt the knife in the chest. The droid moved the bloodied left hand just as the spaceship went into hyperdrive. Blood from the hand leaked into the controls of the ship causing the electronics to short. Alarms blared from the console as the overhead red lights began to glow ominously from the ceiling of the cockpit, but the warnings fell on deaf ears. The medical droid continued what it was doing unbothered by the sounds and light, as the spaceship hurled through the hyperdrive lane to its unknown destination.