The gunship rocked, and some of the troopers inside flinched as the sound of artillery whistling past filtered in through the hull of the ship. Vader stared at them until they stilled. Their helmets didn't give away the fact they were looking away, or that they'd suddenly broken into a sweat. The ones that flinched were conscripts or volunteers, supplementing the clones that still made up the bulk of the Imperial forces. The clones didn't react in any way. They didn't even react to him.
Don't think about it.
It was easy to forget things when he was out on duties like this, details like what it was like to interact with beings who weren't clones or how to act when you weren't constantly expecting an attack or a betrayal. Sometimes he'd contact a regional governor or one of the newly-appointed Moffs – Tarkin being the one he trusted the absolute least and thus the one that Vader was determined to hang around as often as possible – but then the conversation was all business.
The clones understood one thing though. In battle, you didn't think. You didn't spend time wondering about things in the past, things that couldn't be changed. You acted, and that was all that was asked of you. If you didn't act, you died.
Vader liked things simple like that. He'd never had the ability to talk to people like his Master (either of his masters) did. Give him a mechanical puzzle, a broken droid or a door control to get open or a ship to hotwire, and his hands and mind moved as one. Give him diplomacy, and he was all but useless.
If there was one thing Vader hated, it was being useless. It had cost him his mother, and if he had listened to Mace Windu, he would have been useless in the face of the terrible fate that had awaited Padmé and his children. But he'd acted, hadn't he, and he'd changed all that.
In battle, he acted. And he didn't have to think about things like the look in Obi-Wan's eyes the moment before he had leaped and cut him down, or the look of betrayal his wife had given him when in a fit of anger he'd choked her. Vader had later thought he remembered something, a surge of shock at his own actions, that had made him release her. But he couldn't figure it out, and so instead he immersed himself in the fighting, a kind of moving meditation where all the feelings of being ripped in two faded and all that was left was the next swing of the lightsaber, the next step over the body of someone who was trying to destroy the peace he'd brought.
Why couldn't they just be grateful? Why can't they see that my Master is doing what is best for them, for the galaxy?
Sometimes, a tiny voice spoke up in the back of his mind, and said that he didn't really believe that, deep down. Vader didn't know how to make that voice go away other than to ignore it and kill something. Or be around Padmé. When he was with her, things made sense and the world was clear and he didn't have to think about being the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy or being Lord Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. He was just who he was, and if he no longer was certain about who he was, it didn't matter. Padmé completed him regardless, and always had. Without her, he was nothing, and all the power in the galaxy was worthless to him if he couldn't go back to her.
Which made it all the more important that the troopers focus.
And then the drop ship landed, the doors opened, and Vader led a squad of members of his 501st Legion out onto Praesitlyn, putting all other thoughts from his mind. He had work to do.
The Emperor's Official Chambers in the Imperial Palace had been designed by Sidious himself. They were similar to his office in the Senate Building, in that they followed the same dark-colored scheme and had the same art pieces arranged around the various rooms, but they were overall on a more grandiose scale, so as to accommodate the increased traffic that a dictatorship inevitably generated.
But he wouldn't be taking visitors – at least, not ones who had to go through the supposedly proper channels – until later in the day. Sidious often obsessively managed his schedule personally, rather than trust it to an aide. The more times information changed hands, even seemingly innocuous information such as his daily schedule, the more likely it was to be leaked to someone who had designs that were not in line with Sidious' own. Furthermore, if some upstart Senator or lordling saw only the 'official' Royal Schedule, they might get it into their head to come bursting in in the large block of time set aside in the mornings, and stumble into something that they had no business seeing.
No, they could wait their turn for when he received them here in his offices, or in one of the newly-completed and richly appointed throne rooms. Sidious enjoyed letting what he thought of as a flair for the dramatic have free rein, while at the same time mixing it with subtle psychological cues.
Every so often, he would pull a small device out of a hidden drawer in his desk, stroke it with pale fingers, and put it back carefully in its foam-sculpted niche, and shut the drawer again. So many things would have been so much more difficult without his little toy.
At the moment, though, he was in full red-and-scarlet; this was his last 'unofficial' meeting of the normal day's schedule, and in front of him was a most interesting specimen.
"Your name?" he asked.
The alien was humanoid enough, though several features set him apart from the humans in the room – his blue skin and glowing red eyes, for one. In the dim room, they let off a slight glow. "Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Your Excellency. I would be honored if you would call me by my core name, Thrawn."
"Thrawn, then." Sidious knew better than to make a pretense of scrolling through a record of the other's virtues. From what he'd read, Thrawn would be able to see through it, and Sidious hated wasting time. A pity he wasn't Force-sensitive or human. "Admiral Parck has a long list of your virtues."
"I assure you they are all supported on fact."
"He recommends you for a military commission."
"Indeed."
Sidious peered a moment over his steepled fingers. It would truly be a waste to let this one go. "I believe you may have a place here, Thrawn. More information will be provided later today. I will expect to hear you reported as ordered tomorrow."
"You are too generous, Your Excellency." Thrawn's bow was deep enough, but Palpatine had to suppress a smile. Truly, someone who could play the game just as well as he or any Sith could, most likely.
Truly a pity, then. Vader was proving to be more work than initially thought, harder to control, more unstable than previously imagined. Sidious frowned as the door slid shut and he was left in delightful solitude once more. He should have ensured Padmé would die when he still could have done so innocuously. Why she hadn't was still beyond him. He thought he'd taken care of things.
Reality, however, was more slippery than he had thought at first as well. Things like the Senate, in its now-farcical form, were easy to manipulate even without help. But complexities were beginning to arise, factions and facets that he had not anticipated when first putting his plans in motion. The beauty of being a Sith, though, was being flexible, able to change and adapt oneself to one's current situation. It was why he and Vader had survived, and the Jedi had perished or hid like cowards.
So he could be flexible with Vader. He had long ago had the measure of the boy; now it was all a question of playing things out to their logical conclusion.
His comm beeped softly, in the tone he'd set for transmissions from Vader. Making sure the door was locked and security-priv'd, Sidious thumbed the appropriate button and sat back in his throne. "Lord Vader."
Vader's head was bowed to the floor of the holopad he was standing on. "I have news to report, my Master."
"Then report it."
"My task force has finished eliminating supposed resistance cells. Sluis and Vivenda sectors are once more loyal to the Empire."
"That is good news." Vader might be unpredictable at times, but he was an effective tool when the job called for his kind of work. "Our supply of Tibanna is assured?"
"I am leaving a detachment of the 501st to make sure the mining operation remains secure."
"Excellent, good news indeed." Sidious paused, more for effect than because he was actually thinking. "And you are now on your way back to Naboo?"
"Padmé is waiting for me."
"Of course she is. I will expect a full report upon your return, Lord Vader."
"As you wish, my Master."
The transmission ended, and Sidious absently chewed a thumbnail as he put the pieces of this particular deviousness into place in his mind, turning them over and over. Everything was an advantage; all it took was the right point of view.
Two months had gone by quickly, and Padmé somehow found herself surprised at the changes, both good and bad, that had occurred. The twins were much steadier on their feet now than they had been upon leaving Coruscant, and they even insisted on walking beside her down the ramp of her ship. Her husband had smiled, almost a real one, when they'd made their wishes clear. Padmé had caught his eye, and the smile had brightened a bit more so that he almost looked like himself again. But then it was gone, and she had to see the dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt look of his face again.
Palpatine was there to greet them. Out of courtesy she bowed her head, but kept herself from clenching her jaw. He would notice, and no doubt file that infraction away for some kind of punishment exacted later on. She had the twins do their clumsy duty as well. Luke fell over and simply sat himself on the floor of the landing platform like he meant it, staring at his father with wide eyes. Her husband bowed, much more deeply, and helped Luke up when he straightened.
"They grow so big," Palpatine said, his sibilant voice easily audible over the roar of day-to-day Coruscanti traffic. "So quickly."
"Two months is a long time," Padmé replied. "I cherish the time I have with them when they're this size, Your Excellency." The words stuck in her throat.
"Two months is indeed a long time. I am sure in the months to come we'll see yet more to surprise us, my lady." The honorific had been just as insincere as her own words had been. Padmé shifted, looked at her husband.
"We're both tired, Master," he said. "I ask your leave to go to our apartments and rest."
"Of course, of course. I have an airbus here for your use – your personal use, in fact."
"That's too generous, we couldn't—" Padmé began, but her husband cut her off.
"Thank you, Master," he said. "You're very generous to us."
"Loyalty is rewarded," Palpatine replied, then gestured to two male Devaronians stuffed into royal livery. "How better to reward my most steadfast lieutenant? Indeed, I owe you more than you know."
"You don't owe us anything, Your Excellency," Padmé replied.
"No, that's true. But as I said, I reward those who have given me their allegiance. And to that... Lord Vader, a word in private before you leave with your wife?"
Padmé knew a dismissal when she heard one. Feeling a headache already beginning, she supervised the loading of their cases onto the airbus. Leia and Luke were shepherded aboard by their nanny droid and safely strapped in, and by the time the last of their things got loaded on, her husband was walking across the platform toward her, while Palpatine and his entourage of aides and guards in their menacing red robes boarded their own airbus.
Her husband had a strange look on his face, and Padmé paused to try and read it. He had ever been easy to read, though lately it seemed the farther into the darkness he walked, the more guarded he became. Still, his expression said a lot – suspicion, was that? Anger? Doubt?
"What's wrong, Anakin?"
He gave her a sidelong look as they boarded the airbus. "Nothing. Don't call me that."
Padmé sighed as they strapped themselves in across from the twins, who were staring at everything with the endearing curiosity of children. Seeing them, her husband seemed to relax beside her – at least, she felt his muscles ease, and his voice was soft when he spoke. "They are getting big."
"Luke... he did something with the Force, while you were gone," she said quietly, tentatively laying her head on his shoulder. When he didn't move away, she slipped her hand in his, relieved to feel him give it a gentle squeeze. This was almost the Anakin she'd married. "He rolled a ball across the floor."
"And I missed it," he said, bitterness a hard edge in his voice. "Just like I missed their first steps. Like I'll probably miss so much more of their lives."
"You can speak to... to the Emperor about staying on-planet. You can't keep going at this pace, anyway, what's out there that you need to police? People living their lives?"
"Threats to the security of the Empire..." but he shook his head. "I'm going to be staying here for a while, anyway. The Imperial Academy is hosting a gala at the Palace in two weeks. As Supreme Commander, I have to go... and I'd hope you'd accompany me?"
She had to smile at him then, at the eager, hopeful way he said it. Somewhere in there was her Knight, still. "You know I would, Ani."
He didn't even object, just squeezed her hand again and relaxed even more. She took it as a victory.
"...Lord Vader, a word in private before you leave with your wife?"
Vader watched Padmé turn away, feeling an echo of her sour mood. She'd been happy when he'd landed on Naboo; they'd spent a couple days there, and he'd gotten a chance to reassure himself that his agreeing to let her stay at the house in the Lake Country wasn't ill-fated. Even with the Dark Side now fueling him, he still lived in fear of her death. His master hadn't yet taught him Plagueis' methods for immortalizing her, and the galaxy was not yet safe. Still, being able to sit in the sun with her at his side had been a welcome respite.
Vader turned and stepped away from the main activity. "What is it, Master?"
"I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, my boy, you know you are the greatest of my apprentices..."
Bad news? Vader was instantly on alert. "What bad news?"
"I'm afraid I don't know all the details, but... it seems that your wife had a visitor while you were gone."
"You were watching her?" That put Vader's hackles up, too. He appreciated that his master cared so much about his life as to safeguard the livelihood of Vader's own family, but something seemed off about it. He didn't like the idea of his family being watched.
"I was, and I happened to notice that she had a visitor, as I said."
Vader could sense the annoyance coming off his master, but also something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "It was probably her mother, or another member of her family. They all live in Theed, still. I know her mother's been wanting to see the twins."
"I'm afraid that's not the case. You see... the person who visited her is a rather well-known Senator, one your wife worked with extensively prior to leaving the Senate."
Vader furrowed his brow, thinking, running through a mental list of who Padmé had associated with then. It was over a year ago now, and hard for him to remember. Those were memories from someone else, someone he didn't want to call up to ask. "...I'm sorry, Master."
"It was Bail Organa, interestingly enough. He met your wife at the house she was staying at with the children and didn't leave for some hours, it appears."
Vader felt the hot stab of jealousy. "Did he?"
"I'm not meaning to insinuate that anything untoward went on. Your wife is a woman of great honor and virtue, I know. But one does have to wonder what was so important that the Senator visit her personally and stay for several hours? We are not at all certain of his virtue."
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying simply to keep that in mind. Be vigilant, Lord Vader; I'd hate to see your beloved wife drawn into something that ends up dragging her into treason."
He stiffened. Treason against the Empire was an offense that carried a death sentence. If Padmé were to be convicted of treason, there was perhaps little he could do. "I will be vigilant, Master. Thank you for warning me."
"I only do this because Organa has made it plain that he would rather return to the squabbling and petty, fractious nature of the Republic, rather than the unity I gave the galaxy. He is not to be trusted, Lord Vader. And for him to draw your dear wife down with him would be a tragedy indeed. Why, your poor children, without a mother..."
"I won't let it happen, Master. I can—"
"No, my boy, do nothing yet. We have to have solid evidence against Organa before we can move. This game will take much longer than anything else. Best leave it to me until I give you instructions otherwise."
"As you wish, Master." Vader bowed deeply, and sensed approval from his master.
"Rest a few days in the Palace, my friend," Sidious told him. "I will call for you when it is time."
Vader turned and headed back over to the airbus that was almost loaded with their things, fighting to keep his expression neutral. It was difficult; he'd been in the habit of letting loose with his emotions whenever it took him, rather than trying to ignore them as he had before. Hiding things from Padmé was difficult, anyway. She could read him with a glance, and sometimes seemed almost Force-sensitive with how spot-on she was. It was part of why he needed her with him. She understood him better than anyone else, better even than his master.
But he would be vigilant. He had to make sure she would never leave him.
"What's wrong, Anakin?"
Their apartments clearly had been entered and cleaned while they were gone. Padmé wondered how many audio/visual monitoring devices had been installed this time, and mentally added that to the list of things she wanted to do in the next few days. She had it down to an art by now.
That thought only served to frustrate her further. Now that they were back in the Palace, with the strange, noxious influence it had on people, the twins were more prone to crying. It wasn't just the kind they did when they fell down, either, but heartbreaking sobs that had both her and her husband cradling one or the other. It got worse as they started feeding off each other, their bond in the Force making everything more difficult.
At least when they were finally put to bed, she could be reasonably sure of them sleeping through the night. They had been more and more lately, and she was sure that once they got back in to their normal routine, they'd settle down and sleep.
So after dimming the light in the twins' room and turning on the little nightlight that projected the stars in Naboo's night sky, Padmé made her tired way to the bedroom. Her husband was already in bed, scrubbing at his eyes and trying to read something on his datapad. She leaned in the doorway a moment, watching him with a little smile on her face before he could notice her. He'd never fully lose the tan or the sun-touch in his hair, she figured. Tatooine was in his blood, and, wild and only grudgingly tamed, he suited the planet he tried so hard to forget.
There were times when, like her husband, Padmé tried hard to forget things.
Breaking out of her thoughts, she stepped into the room and slid under the blanket, stretching out with a sigh. It felt good to be sharing her bed again. As much as she sometimes woke with tears in her eyes from a dream of a hellish planet, her husband was warm and solid, and she had had so little time with him since they'd married that she would take what she could get.
Her husband put the datapad on the bedside table and slid down to face her. His eyes were less Mustafar and more Naboo, the blue color of the lake on a sunny day. There was a hazy orange rim to them, still.
"They finally quieted down?"
"They'll be better when they're settled back in," she murmured, reaching out to touch his face. So much thinner than she remembered. "Ani... what happened while you were out, these last two months. You look like you've not been eating."
"You try the field rations. You wouldn't eat either." For a moment a wry smile curved his mouth. "Don't worry about it, my love. I'm just making the galaxy safe for us and our children."
She wanted to tell him that she'd never feel safe here, in this place where she felt Palpatine's eye always on her. But she swallowed those words. "We're safe," she said quietly. "When we're all together."
He smiled, and reached out to put an arm around her, and she let him draw her close.
A few days later, Vader got a summons from his master. Padmé glanced up when the aide repeated the message she'd been given. It didn't take the Force to sense her disapproval, but Vader knew his duty, and donned his black cloak.
"I'll be back shortly, I think," he told her. "I sense this won't take long."
She seemed about to say something, but didn't, just nodded. Pulling his hood up,Vader left their apartment, and got into the turbolift in their foyer.
The Palace was not one large building, but rather a complex; five towers arranged in a pentagon around a central, four-sided ziggurat which contained most of the day-to-day happenings of the government. The Emperor's Offices were there, along with all the diplomatic trappings of the Empire – conference rooms, ballrooms, reception halls, the opulent Throne Room that the Emperor occasionally held audiences in.
Vader's apartments were in the northeast tower. This held the living quarters of essential palace higher-ups and their families. Lower down on the tower was a school that the twins would one day attend, and every five levels a long, slightly arched walkway flew off into space, connecting to either the main ziggurat, the north tower, or the southeast tower. Vader strode confidently along as underlings bowed or scurried out of his way. They never would have afforded the other this, Vader thought to himself. This was only the kind of respect he should have had all along. Even the Inquisitors – his master's newest dogs – bowed and stood aside for him. They were housed in the southwest tower, between the visiting diplomats' residences tower and the military tower. Vader was happy to have them far away from him; he couldn't stand them.
In the central building, he took a life up to the top floor and emerged into the Emperor's Office. As usual at this hour, the room was mostly empty. A few aides, some military personnel who snapped to attention as he entered. Vader ignored them all – even the strange, blue-skinned humanoid – and knelt before his master.
"I have come as you asked, my Master."
"And promptly, too. Rise, Lord Vader." Sidious turned to look out over the cityscape once more. "You have done very good work, securing the most volatile places in the Empire. Such work can only be worth of great reward. It is time for you to leave the field, until such time as you have mastered the skills befitting a Dark Lord of the Sith, and can truly be a force to be reckoned with."
Vader felt a surge of elation. Finally! Finally he would be able to learn how to keep Padmé safe, after waiting for so long. "I am honored, my Master."
"You thought I had forgotten my promise?" Sidious' voice was slightly mocking, but jovial. "Truly, my friend, I know you are happiest with a lightsaber in your hand."
"I am happiest at the side of my wife," Vader corrected. "Knowing she is safe. But I thank you for the opportunities you gave me while out in the field. I look forward to your teachings, Master."
Sidious waited until Vader had left his office in a swirl of black fabric, fairly glowing with satisfaction, before he turned to Thrawn.
"What do you make of him, my friend?"
"The Supreme Commander?" Thrawn appeared thoughtful. "He seems rather unstable, Your Excellency."
"He is quite unwell, it's true," Sidious agreed. "But he is useful."
"If heavy-handed."
"If that. Still, I need him yet... but you will be getting your chance out in the field, after this little function next week. Do you think you are up to the task of handling our officers?"
"I will have to command them, Your Excellency. What commander doesn't strive to know each person under his command?"
"...never mind that he made you this promise over a year ago, without any strings attached save that you raid the—"
"Don't talk about that," Vader cut her off. Padmé scowled at him, and continued hanging up her dresses from the bins they'd been packed in. She'd been so busy watching Luke and Leia that she'd barely had enough energy to fall into bed beside her husband at night.
"Anakin—"
"Don't call me that."
"What else am I going to call you? I'm not going to use the name that he gave you." Padmé sighed, running a hand through her brunette curls. "I don't want to argue with you," she said, softly. "I die every time we do."
I die every time Watto makes you do it.
Vader clenched his jaw. That wasn't who he was anymore. He was new, different. He wouldn't be subject to the fears of his past.
"Training with my master means I'll be here almost all the time," he replied, after the silence had stretched on, the only noises from Luke, sleeping fitfully in his father's lap. Vader stroked the toddler's silky blond hair. Suns-touched, just like his own. "I won't be away again for a long time."
Padmé shifted Leia in her arms; she was the fussier of the twins, at least at the moment, and needed lots of attention before being able to settle down and sleep. Luke seemed able to sleep whenever he got tired. "I'm glad," she said, and she meant it. "You being away all the time..."
"It's all going to change," Vader repeated. "I promised you things would get better back... back before, and now I'm going to make good on it."
Padmé shook her head with a smile. "I have the children, and now I have you again. Things are already better."
The First Annual Imperial Academy Gala was, as the inaugural social event of the Academy, a rousing success.
The Academy itself was not on Imperial Center, but Palpatine had insisted on the officers and the sector governors coming to make themselves familiar with each other, and spoke of ushering the new era of safety and security with the help of those assembled here today. Ensuring cooperation within the ranks of the Fleet, he said, would ensure smooth military operations to preserve the livelihood of the citizenry of the Empire.
Vader spoke as well, though not with the same charisma as his master. Padmé smiled as she listened to him deliver his speech. She'd helped him write it, when she saw he was struggling. In the past two weeks, some of the wounds in their relationship had begun to heal, despite everything that had happened between them. When he was around his family, she could see more of the man she'd married than the man he'd become. Being around his family seemed to be a stabilizing force, something that soothed his brittle nerves. Seeing him regaining a sense of stability, even if he seemed to be sinking even deeper into darkness, felt like a small victory.
When his address was over, the gala was declared officially open. Padmé stepped forward, slipping her hand around her husband's arm. "That was very well said."
His expression didn't change much, but he put his hand on top of hers. "I would not have done it without you. I suppose politicians are actually good for something."
Padmé eyed him until he looked at her too, and gave her a sort of half-smile. "True enough," she murmured as they descended the steps from the dais the speaking podium was at. "Your first attempts were atrocious."
"Speechmaking is not my strength." Vader's fingers caressed hers again. "I know I've told you this already, but you look so beautiful."
She absently smoothed the rich blue fabric of the gown she wore. It was the first of its kind that she'd worn since giving birth, and while she'd always valued her mind over her body, there was still the matter of appearance being the first impression to some cultures, and as much as she might find their position distasteful, Padmé knew to play the politics game would be the better route for now. "Thank you," she said.
"Your husband's assessment isn't far off, my lady," said a voice nearby, and they paused. It only took her a moment to place the face – Tarkin, one of the regional governors, though she doubted he'd remain at that level for long. She knew him from before the government had changed, and knew that he was an infinitely ambitious man. "The color does suit you."
She'd chosen the color because it was the diplomatic neutral color the Republic had preferred; many Supreme Chancellors had worn blue Veda cloth, and the Senate Guard had worn blue. She was certain Tarkin hadn't missed the subtle reference. "Thank you, Governor," she said politely, though with the slightest hint of an edge. "I'm flattered."
Tarkin's smile was tight-lipped. "Charming, to see you again, my lady," he replied dryly.
Her husband's jaw tightened. "Governor Tarkin," he said, making the name like a curse. "I trust that your troubles with resistance movements are now at an end?"
"Indeed," the other man replied. "Though your approach was rather heavy-handed, Lord Vader, as some of the colonists on Varonat can attest."
"It is not my duty to look out for your colonists," Vader replied icily. "If they got in the way of my troops, then that is their problem and yours, and not my concern."
"I cannot be expected to maintain control of the natives if I do not have the right manpower, and I cannot supply the Empire with the planet's resources if I don't have workers."
"With the security of the Cloud City operation on Bespin, we don't really need the Varonat products anymore. Our supply of Tibanna gas is assured."
"Perhaps not as secure as you would think. Lord Vader."
Under her hand, Padmé felt the tension in her husband's arm, and knew if she didn't stop things now, there would be a scene. "Husband," Padmé cut in. "While I'm sure these are important matters..."
Vader paused, looked at her, and then nodded slowly. "We will discuss this at another time, Governor," he said coldly, and turned, leaving Tarkin behind so fast that Padmé had to almost jog to keep up. When they were across the room, and Tarkin had apparently engaged some of the younger officers in conversation, she tugged him to a stop.
"Calm down, Anakin," she murmured, brow furrowed as she watched him try to contain himself. He was almost shaking – and, she noticed with a start, so were the glasses of champagne on the table nearby. Only slightly, but enough so that they clinked together occasionally, the golden liquid inside rippling as though in a groundquake. "I know you don't like him, but being baited here isn't going to be good for anyone."
His hands came up to grip her shoulders, the metal tips of his prosthetic hand skeletal-seeming through the leather gauntlet he work regardless of the occasion, and they stayed like that for a long moment before her husband seemed to draw himself back in. It was an almost visible recoiling of power, and it frightened her more than his anger had.
At any moment he could have killed the governor, she thought to herself. It might not be a big loss, but even in his worst moods, Anakin never would have...
"You're right," he said, and she blinked herself out of her musings. "It wouldn't be appropriate here." He gave her a small smile, and she tried to ignore the yellow gleam in his eyes. "Another good use for a politician." She smiled for him, and that seemed to further relax him.
The only other incident of note that night was when they ran into Bail Organa. Still holding onto his Senatorial position, though it was little more than a formality now, he bowed to her in the courtly fashion of Alderaan. Her husband was tense against beside her, eyes boring into the other man's skull hard enough to puncture. He seemed to be scrutinizing Organa especially closely, for some reason she couldn't fathom.
As they walked away from that conversation, her husband leaned over. "I don't want you talking to him too much if you can help it."
Her brow furrowed. "Senator Organa's been one of my friends here on-planet since I started in the Senate – he's a colleague and a friend. Why don't you want me talking to him?"
"I don't trust him." He looked at her sharply. "My master has reason to believe he's a traitor to the Empire."
Padmé kept her expression carefully neutral, and did her best to quell the panic that suddenly rose in her. Could Palpatine know? Could her husband? "Senator Organa wishes for democracy and diplomacy to return, as I do. Does your master label me a traitor, too?"
"No. But I don't want something to happen to you because you're implicated in something he did. Try not to talk to him too much, for me?"
Reluctantly, she nodded. "I'll try." That seemed to put him at ease, and the rest of the gala passed uneventfully, while Padmé consciously kept herself from worrying about whether the content of her meeting with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa had been discerned. There was no way to know for sure, she told herself. Until there was, there was no use worrying about it.
That night, as she lay still awake beside him as he slept, Padmé studied her husband's face in profile. Still the same, she thought, but instead of being contained, everything was there right beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to escape. It was like sleeping beside a time bomb, with the countdown in another language entirely.
On a whim, she got up, padding silently through the apartment to the room her children shared. The nightlight had long since been turned off, and both of them were asleep in their cribs. Padmé went to each, stroking Luke's soft hair and smiling and Leia made a little whimpery sound in her sleep and shifted. She pulled the girl's blanket up a bit and went back to bed, slipping under her husband's arm and listening as he got comfortable again, pressing his face into her neck.
That made her smile, and close her eyes. No matter what name he took, there were little things that could not be undone. Her husband wouldn't jeopardize their children, that much Padmé knew for sure.
Vader kept his eyes closed as he felt his wife settle in again. Feigning sleep was easy enough, especially since Padmé wasn't a Jedi; it was a matter of regulating breathing and moving in certain ways. There were subtle things, minutiae of a performance that yet escaped him, but his wife wasn't looking for a husband that was awake and following her every movement.
Her drop into sleep was easy enough to pinpoint. A shift in breathing rate, a relaxation of tense muscles gave it all away to those who knew what to look for. Vader let out a sigh. He'd been worried for half a moment that she'd arranged some kind of middle-of-the-night meeting with Organa, or someone else that his master had put on the list of those to watch. The spike of fear when they'd spoke of him earlier, the obvious attempts at hiding something from him – he'd been worried.
Now that he thought on it though, Vader reassured himself that Padmé would never do something like that. She loved him, and when they were all together, things were better. His thoughts were clearer, less fogged by the other. Things made sense. That last reason, more than anything, more than even his children, was why he needed to make sure she was safe.
Closing his eyes, he settled in for another sleepless night.
Sidious sat at his desk, hours after the gala had concluded. He slept little, preferring to work alone when he could. There were matters he had to attend to, the development of certain Force attributes that he did not want others around to see. Certainly not Vader. If the other knew that Sidious had precious little knowledge of his own master's methods of creating and immortalizing life, then the Sith wasn't sure that he could hold off the other's rage.
At least, not without a little intervention.
He touched the smooth metal of the device to assure himself it was still there, then got to work. About an hour before dawn, the comm beeped in the pattern signaling a report from the Beta Site. He keyed for the security settings on the door and windows to be activated, then accepted the transmission. "What is it?"
"We have good news to report, Your Excellency," the male Kaminoan said, in the slow, deliberate way of the species. Sometimes it grated on Sidious' nerves, but not tonight. Good news from this project was always welcome.
"Proceed."
"We have achieved successful fusion and produced a stable zygote, with all specified modifications to the genome in place. We took the liberty of implanting it into a surrogate."
"By all means," Sidious said, suddenly excited. "Which samples were used?"
"The ones designated K-0327 and T-0811, Your Excellency. The surrogate used is one with latent Force ability, the better to ensure implantation and survival, as well as maximum ability in the resultant offspring. Preliminary assessments indicate this one should be quite talented indeed, though we will be unable to confirm this until removal from the ysalamiri sphere of influence is safe."
"Excellent," Sidious said, and felt his lips curling up into a smile. "Keep me apprised and continue with the project; I want twelve in total. With no growth acceleration, remember."
"As you wish." The transmission ended. Sidious' smile was even broader now. Tonight was proving to be one success after another; first Vader's barely-contained outburst at the gala, and the continued ability of certain officers to impress him, and now this.
Initially, when he had been planning all of this, Sidious had been concerned that he would have to make much more use of his device, that things could not be bent to his will as easily as they had been. It had been a snag in his plans; the device sapped some of the user's life in order to operate properly, and required a great deal of concentration – both things that left him vulnerable. Over time his projections had proved false, and with the discovery of Anakin Skywalker, most of the last of his fears had been put to rest, and all of them had when the boy had proved easy to manipulate and mold into what Sidious wanted him to be. Hungry for praise and a kind of recognition that he hadn't found within the Jedi Order, the boy had come to him, and the rest was, as they said, history.
Unfortunately, Padmé was proving less malleable to his interests. Not only was she resistant to the very idea of what he'd established, she wouldn't die. He'd thought that she would surely have perished on Mustafar, a casualty of Kenobi's last-ditch attempt to stop his former student, but she'd survived and continued to confuse an already compromised Vader with her presence. He listened far too much to her, and not enough to his master, in some matters. It would prove troublesome, that much he had foreseen.
It was no matter though, Sidious thought, taking a sip of his tea. Kenobi had still served his purpose even in death, and from a certain point of view, would continue to serve. Padmé, though she'd been maddeningly difficult to rid himself of, had given birth to the twins with all the power of their father and none of his instabilities. Even indirectly she served him... and her children certainly would, when they were old enough. The only remaining Jedi were on the run, in hiding, too frightened to show themselves even to train the children who were arguably the most talented in the history of the Order. When they were old enough, the children would be trained in the powers of the Dark Side, because there were no other choices.
Sidious laughed as he thought of what the upstart woman would think of that, and continued on with his work. Running a galaxy was not a task left for long.