Exogol was a cold, dead celestial rock. Orbiting no sun you couldn't call it a planet, it hung in the black vastness of the unknown regions solitary and alone. Exogol was not a spherical orb, it was a cluster of ice shards peaking into mountains floating in mirror-like darkness. No clouds, no discernible atmosphere. Like a vast floating iceberg, the dips and peaks thrust into the starlit space that surrounded it. You'd be forgiven if observing from afar, for thinking that the icicles were floating in an expanse of still water, that the frozen rock below was, in fact, a reflection, but it wasn't. The mountains of ice and rock reached as far beneath the centre of Exogol as they did above. As Exogol orbited no sun it was always shrouded in eerie darkness yet the ice and rock shimmered hues of blue from icy blue to black. Letan Nex had searched for Exogol, for the resting place of the greatest Sith that had ever lived- Emperor Palpatine, Darth Sidious. Finally, at this location, his search was over. Letan Nex was a follower of the dark side, of the Sith. He had been chosen at this most pressing time by the Contingency to aid Palpatine's return.

Letan Nex made his way from his tie fighter towards a break within the ice, a long, dark narrow slit that stretched the length of the rocky mountainscape. Letan Nex stalked towards that split and disappeared into its depths. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the outlines of a vast cave, that reached the peaks of the mountains. As Letan cautiously stepped his way further within the cave, the ground below him shifted, and he was lowered into the depth of the rock on a platform. The lower section of the cave was pitch black, but for an eerie blue shaft of light. Occasionally blue lightning erupted, lighting up immense statues from a long-dead ancient civilisation. The sculptures were robed and immense, reaching from the floor to the ceiling of the cave. Cave didn't encapsulate this place; it was more an underground temple, a palace though long abandoned to fester and rot. Letan Nex knew well from his teachings what this place was, what the enormous effigies represented- the D'warti. Palpatine was here; he couldn't be anywhere else. The platform on which Letan Nex stood finally stopped at the base of the cavernous underground sanctuary. He stepped off the platform and surveyed the gigantic ominous stone figures that seemed to tower above him. He watched as blue electricity surged through the darkness. He was not a Sith, but as someone as least within whom the Force flowed. He stood and closed his eyes, attempting to sense where he should head, where was his master, the one he'd been commanded to find.

Letan Nex felt where he should go and headed in that direction towards where the electricity seemed to come from, where the darkness within the Force was strongest. He walked past machines, more stone figures. Before him, a sinister throne appeared. Like everything carved in this place, the throne was cut from black obsidian, engraved with Dwartii symbols and ancient Sith languages. The throne was an explosion of rock, like an arachnid monsters body. The throne was empty, but that was of little consequence, Darth Sidious was here, his shadowy presence within the Force was strong.

"Long have I waited."

The voice scrapes like metal on stone, crackling with age but dripping with power.

"I am your humble servant, here to restore you," Letan Nex said as he knelt before the empty throne.

A cloaked figure stumbled from the shadows towards the throne, fragile and weak but only in body. It practically fell into the throne, and the seat within the rock face detaches, propelled on silent thrusters it floated towards Letan Nex. He dare not raise his head to look upon his master, but within the Force, he felt his master reach out to sense him.

"Young, strong. Yes, you will do nicely, my servant."

Suddenly pain coursed through Letan Nex, his consciousness overrun. An internal burning in his veins, as though his skin was being torn apart from the inside. He arched back and screamed in agony until as abruptly as the screaming started, it stopped. Letan Nex stared down at his arms. His veins shone dark purple under his skin. He looked down as though he had never seen his muscled arms, surveys his long, strong fingers flexing them like he's never used them before.

"Yes, this body will serve me well."

The voice that speaks now isn't the low timbre of the young man who had knelt before the wraith but the metallic scratch of Darth Sidious. The body that sat within the throne is gone; only the dusty robes remain. Within Letan Nex the consciousness of Darth Sidious now resides, the previous owner's consciousness forced out and obliterated. Within the form of Letan Nex, Darth Sidious now walked towards that empty throne on legs able to maintain his weight without stumbling; no more faltering, steady now with purposeful strides. Yes, the Contingency was right to send this man, his physical strength would serve Palpatine well until he was fully resurrected. He gathered up the cowled robes, placing them over this new form. He also gathered up the twin lightsabers, temporarily holding one in each hand and surveying his weapons, before placing them upon his belt. It has been a lifetime since he used them but leaving them in this place is not an option. He has seen what the future holds his mastery of these weapons will be needed once more before he takes his rightful place once more as the ruler of the known Galaxy.

Darth Sidious raised his arms and reached into the Force, for a moment revelling in this body's ability to provide him finally with his full power. How long has it been since he'd been fully able to use his abilities due to his weakened state? Decades? His essence had fled from his body as he fell into the shaft of the Death Star having been thrown over in an unexpected moment of treason by his once most faithful servant Lord Vader. The one Sidious had initially taken over was some lowly officer fleeing the Death Star's doom. That body had become withered and fragile unable to contain the power within. For so long he'd been weak, squatting in the form of one unconnected with the Force. He had suffered, but he had survived. Darth Plagueis' had failed believing that essence transference was beneath him, he had wanted to extend his life in his own body permanently. The Muun Sith master, Plagueis the wise should've learnt more from his science experiments, for he'd died at Palpatine's hand, as his master Lord Tenebrous had died at his. No essence transference, no immoral life. Where they and countless other legendary Sith had failed Sidious had succeeded essence transference; alive in consciousness and spirit. Soon in flesh.

Lord Vader, of course, had only ever been a means to Sidious's goal. Always two, within the Sith; master and apprentice. Snoke had found Sidious following the Empire's fall within the unknown regions and had been a dutiful servant, doing as instructed. Finding the Skywalker boy and turning him to the dark, ridding the Galaxy of the other Skywalker- Vader's son. Sidious could not allow that whelp to exist after he had caused Vader to betray him. Ben Solo would be the ultimate revenge. The Last of the Skywalkers would be a Sith. However, the Solo boy had killed his master and taken control of the First Order himself. All servants ultimately wish to overthrow their masters, but the foolish boy didn't realise it was never Snoke who'd been his master but Sidious and soon he would be aware, and he would bow before his true master.

A cackle erupted from the throat of the acolyte. Dark and sinister it echoed about the cave. It was finally time. Within the Force, Palpatine reached into the core of Exgol. Within the ice of Exogol he feels the ships, ships he had built and hidden here in the unknown regions when he was Emperor. Palpatine had always been able to plan far ahead of time for what was necessary. Before he was even a chancellor or politician on Naboo he had been creating the conflict between the separatists and the senate, he had created the clone army long before that conflict was at full maturity. All to acquire his goal- Galatic Emperor. Calculating and intelligent, foreseeing far beyond what others, even Master Yoda could, manipulating events to his desire.

The icy rock world of Exogol shattered as the truth within its core exploded from deep within the ice. Ship after ship erupting amongst icy shards. An armada, a fleet of imperial star destroyers the expanse of which would take the Galaxy back and return Darth Sidious to the position he had planned so meticulously to acquire- Galatic Emperor once more.

-X-

Within a darkened mechanics chamber a pair of dark hands belonging to a Shistavanen blacksmith were completing the final stages of their work. It had not been an easy endeavour, even for one as skilled as Valek was to complete this particular job. It had been a bizarre request by some shrouded human male, in a dark full-length cowl, reminiscent of the garbs of the Jedi. The man, along with six dark Knights, had provided Valek with the shattered remnants of a helmet. Not a pilot's helmet or a soldier's helmet, but a black and chrome full-faced mask. The mechanic had not understood the job he'd been given, but that was of no matter, the payment was such that he'd have completed any task given to him. The man had wanted the broken remains to be reconstructed. Valek had offered the man a new helmet, that would look the same, but the man demanded it be this one.

The mask was not particularly remarkable, in fact as Valek pieced it back together it was clear that it had been much used. Dented and marked with laser blasts upon its reconstructed surface. It seemed to serve no purpose other than to hide the owners face, there was nothing within that would improve vision or hearing or aid breathing. Something, however, about it made Valek uncomfortable. Sometimes alone in his workshop, as he often was, Valek thought he could hear or feel something. It made his fur stand on end, made him feel as though a winter breeze had entered his abode. He had shaken off such ideas as being ridiculous, absurd but he would be glad when this job was complete, and he was paid.

It had been a complicated jigsaw, piecing the shards back together. Valek had smelted the rejoined pieces using Sarrissan iron giving the already sinister mask a more demonic look as jagged red lines jig jazzed across its surface. Moulding the metal lines around the face back into place had been just as tricky. Valek, however, was a master blacksmith and his black hands despite his wolf-like fur and appearance were extraordinarily agile and delicate. His tools sparked as he melted the sections into place. The ominous man was returning soon to inspect Valek's work. Valek buffed the chrome lines around the face, his work was complete, and he was proud of it.

The stranger returned as he'd said he would, with the same six dark warriors he'd come with when issuing the odd request. Valek presented him with his work proudly though a little apprehensively. The dark Knights at the man's side were all masked and with an array of fearsome blackened weapons. The man reached out pale fingers for the helmet, and Valek handed it to him. Valek stood with his chin raised high attempting to seem unflinching as the man scrutinised the work, tracing the lines with his long spidery fingers.

"You've done well," the man whispered, his voice hoarse and dry like the crackling of leaves.

Valek gave a sigh of relief glad this mysterious stranger was pleased. The man handed Valek his payment, removed his cowl to show a monstrous but young face. Valek shrunk back from the sight, but at the same time seemed unable to look away. He was surprised the voice didn't seem to belong to the image he saw. It might have been a handsome face once a broad jaw, and wide, straight nose, as well as an expanse of what had once been brown hair. Something terrible, however, had happened to this man. His skin was distorted and practically translucent; it was so pale. Deep red crevices lined his forehead; red-purple lines etched his face, the hair seemed singed and brittle. What made the man genuinely horrifying to behold were his eyes. Yellow and red-rimmed, his sockets seemed raw as though they burned from the intensity that simmered beneath them. The man placed the helmet upon his head, hiding his monstrous appearance and left without another word. The dark-robed figures with the man still without speaking or without any gesture to Valek silently followed.

Valek sighed in relief once more, glad to be rid of the sinister helmet and the strange man who'd ordered its assemblage as well as the silent ominous figures who'd accompanied him.