In his new book The Chamber Where it Happened, Former national security adviser John Bolton claims to have firsthand knowledge of a secret meeting between President Trump and Emperor Palpatine aka Darth Sidious the dark lord of the Sith.
Bolton says Trump interrupted a daily briefing to ask if anyone saw a cloaked figure standing in the corner of the room. Central Intelligence Agents looked in that direction when they turned back the president was gone. Trump wandered into East Wing of the White House chasing the vision. The cloaked phantom lead Trump into Presidential Emergency Operations Center (the bunker beneath the White House). Bolton found Trump chiseling at the wall with a sharpie. That’s where the president discovered the Sith Wayfinder left behind by the Nixon administration.
“The president assembled a crew for a secret mission aboard Space Force One.” Bolton recounted the events that lead them off world. “All of a sudden Trump was up on Einstein’s theory of general relativity. He knew about wormholes. He knew where to find one and he knew what was waiting on the other end.”
The book chronicles the shuttle’s journey through a cloud of crimson space dust, into unknown regions of space where it took orbit around the desert planet Exegol.
Here’s the expert regarding the event
The pilot landed the Lunar Module at the edge of an inverted pyramid which levitated off the ground on its own. Trump teetered down the docking ramp only to barrel headlong into a lightning storm. The president’s entourage followed close behind. We were taking readings when the platform beneath our feet lowered into the Sith Citadel.
Throughout the long descent, we beheld hooded effigies with alien features, so colossal they put the Statue of Liberty to shame.
“You stand in the presence of the Sith Eternal.” A voice boomed from the dark recesses of the domed chamber.
The moment the platform stopped we were flanked by the Knights of Ren. Six black clad figures ushered us along with curious cudgels. We walked through a field of bubbling vats. Each was filled with clones of the same mummified ghoul. The clones were sickly slender, made to look ancient, with withered flesh and a gaping holes in their cheeks.
The Knights led us into a colosseum where a great industrial robot arm, with miles of cabling, hung from the ceiling. There hanging from a harness in the robot’s grip was the hooded figure just as Trump had described him.
Up close, we saw that Palpatine’s eyes were milky white. His skin had a pale blue corpse-like hue, and the bones in his fingers were fractured and exposed.
Trump acknowledged Palpetine with the grace he extends to all world leaders. “What’s up with all the beakers?” Trump pointed to the row of vials behind the emperor.
Palpetine regarded his intravenous infusion apparatus. “My power is too immense for this body. I require constant transfusions from force sensitive children.”
“And who are those losers in the vats back there?”
“They were my master, Darth Plagueis the wise. So wise he took his knowledge to the grave. So I brought him back. I had the gene-smiths on Kamino fit him with a chip and I now he’s my puppet.” Palpatine rolled a hand through the air. “Supreme Leader Snoke. Snoke’s clones spend their time in the kyber mines, bathing in dark side energy. Their hatred bleeds the crystals that power my fleet. I’ve forged my new order on the resentment of my master.”
“Tremendous.” Trump cupped his hands together. “It’s that kind of thinking I need on my campaign.”
“Silence.” Palpatine cast lightning from his fingers.
Trump rose off the ground as the Emperor read his mind. It didn’t take long. Trump collapsed into a heap. He resisted as his aides wrenched him back to his feet.
“Hmmm.” The Sith lord ran his severed fingers along his chin. “A fissure in the force. Unseen for a generations.”
“Of course. I was going to say.” Trump was dumbfounded.
“Your political future is cloudy. I do not foresee a popular vote victory. You will need to rely on the dark magics of the Electoral College.”
“I should campaign in the swing states?” Trump scoffed. “I could’ve figured that out.”
“No.” Palpetine tented his fingers. “Biden’s lead is too great. You will need new voters.”
Trumped showed his palms. “You want me to go after the zoomers?”
“You will have to manufacture voters.” Palpetine cast his chin over Trump’s shoulder. “You will need a clone army. One programmed to carry out your orders on November 3rd.”
Trump regarded the field of vats behind him. “Snoke clones?”
Palpetine nodded. “Imbed in your society. Set them up with social security numbers. Register them in rural areas and fit them unique identities.”
Trump honed in on Snoke’s decrepit visage. “Election judges are going to notice a bunch of guys with holes in their cheeks.”
“Snokes are versatile.” Palpetine defended his creations. “You can accessorize them. Give them mohawks, mustaches, and piercings. They’ll blend right in.”
It occurred to the dealmaker-in-chief that the emperor wasn’t going to help him for free. “And what do you want?”
Palpatine cackled. His laughter echoed throughout the citadel. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling. The president’s aides held papers over their heads in a desperate effort to shield themselves.
The industrial arm raised the emperor high above the president.
“When the time comes, I want you and your entire star system to bow before the might of the final order. We will come from your resources. We will come for your children. We will–”
Trump wouldn’t let the Sith lord finish before agreeing to his terms. I imagine the emperor didn’t stop laughing until long after the lunar module lifted off the ground.
After the excerpt
John Bolton went on to claim the United States Space Force has been smuggling Snoke clones to earth for the last several months. The Department of Homeland Security have been integrating these seven foot Sith lords right under our noses. Bolton alleges the Snoke clones have been exerting their influence upon human affairs just to pass the time.
“Snokes have been bleeding the earth’s core. They’ve poisoned the collective unconscious with dark side energy. I’d say they’re partially responsible for the ominous unease of 2020, but only partially.”
Meet Noelle, a Hollywood transplant that’s been subsisting on instant ramen and false hope. She’s on the verge of moving back into her mother’s trailer when her agent convinces her to take a meeting at the Oralia Hotel. Enchanted by the art deco atmosphere Noelle signs a contract without reading the fine print.
Now she has one month to pen a novel sequestered in a fantasy suite where a hack writer claims he had an unholy encounter. With whom you ask? Well, he has many names: Louis Cypher, Bill Z. Bub, Kel Diablo. The Devil.
Noelle is skeptical, until she’s awoken by a shadow figure with a taste for souls.
Desperate to make it Noelle stays on, shifting the focus of her story to these encounters. Her investigations take her through the forth wall and back again until she’s blurred the line between reality and what’s written. Is there a Satanic conspiracy, is it a desperate author’s insanity, or something else entirely?