Secure Conference Room
Imperial Palace
Imperial Center
Early evening
Ysanne Isard gazed around at the 12 men seated around the conference table. A similar meeting yesterday had hosted 14 men, but 2 had regrettably died of "unknown causes" the night before after having openly rejected Isard's 'suggestions' about upcoming military operations.
A dozen of Isard's personal guards, a mixture of men and women, stood against the walls of the conference room, weapons at the ready.
Seven of the 12 seated at the table were Imperial grand admirals and admirals, called back to Imperial Center by the Emperor and still commanding their fleets in orbit around Imperial Center and other nearby Core worlds.
The remaining 5 men were members of the Emperor's Ruling Council. Four of the five were relatively insignificant sycophants - well dressed, soft, rich men whom Palpatine had enjoyed for their culture and fawning adulation. The last individual was far more significant – Ars Dangor. Isard permitted herself a thin smile at the man. They were rivals – she the Director of Imperial Intelligence, he the leader of the Council. Both had aspirations to the highest position in the Empire. However, both had realized that for now, a tenuous truce was the best way to prevent a Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy from attempting a coup which would likely result in both their deaths.
Isard strode to the front of the table and addressed her audience, "Officers and Councilors, it is my pleasure to welcome you today. Sadly, two of our number are no longer with us. The aftershocks of the last few weeks have resulted in increased crime in Imperial Center, though our security forces are systematically pursuing all criminals. Regrettably, two of those who were here yesterday were killed last night by unknown miscreants. I have high level members of my security bureau tracking down their murderers."
There was rustling and shifting of bodies, but no one spoke. Isard flicked her gaze quickly around the table at the men, paying close attention to their facial expression and body language. All but Dangor looked suitably unnerved at her words. Excellent.
"Captain…" she said coldly, peering at a new man wearing only the insignia of a captain, "I am surprised to see a man of your junior rank here."
The man leaped to his feet and bobbed a nervous head, "Captain Piett, Director, of the Star Destroyer Reprisal. I regret that Admiral Ozzel is physically unwell this afternoon and ordered me to take his place until he recovers sufficiently."
"Thank you, then, Captain, for attending," Isard returned with a frigid smile. Ozzel was a fool and a coward, and had obviously decided that interacting directly with Isard was unhealthy. Or perhaps he was plotting directly against her. It was immaterial; Ozzel had neither the allies nor the ability to challenge her in any meaningful way.
"Admiral Gotan, if you would, describe the current situation on Weerden."
Gotan was an older admiral, able but not ambitious. Isard could use him.
He stood up and gazed around at his fellow admirals and councilors, "As you know, Weerden is a major producer of Stormtrooper armor and small arms weaponry. Given the regrettable loss of the Death Star some weeks ago, coupled with the disappearance of a small but significant number of Star Destroyers, the Empire is currently in need of vastly increased production on Weerden. The workers of the factories, the sentient ones, are unwilling to increase production to an appreciable level, claiming that they are already overworked and require more manpower. As of yesterday, they are on strike and production has ground to a halt."
"Do they indeed require more manpower?" another Admiral inquired.
Gotan glanced hesitantly at Isard and said carefully, "Certainly the required increase will strain their production abilities substantially…"
Isard interrupted, "No, they do not require more manpower. The workers on Weerden have grown soft under Governor Sarntist. We have attempted to persuade the sentients in the factories of the need to comply, and they refuse. Therefore, Admiral Gotan, you will order the Star Destroyers orbiting Weerden to bombard the sanctuary cities for the factory workers tonight. Those who die will be replaced by forced immigrants from other systems. Those who live will learn the folly of rebellion against the Empire. The word of this will spread throughout the star systems, showing clearly that while Emperor Palpatine is tragically no longer with us, order will be upheld."
"Director, you can't seriously…"
Isard turned incredulously. It was the lowly captain, Piett, speaking.
"I beg your pardon, Captain?" she said icily.
Incredibly, Piett did not back down, "Madame Director, the death of so many workers will slow down production even more, will it not? The Empire needs those supplies. It will take some time to import new workers and train them. I sincerely doubt that either his Royal Highness or Lord Darth Vader would pursue such a wantonly destructive course on a vital production planet…"
Isard hissed softly in fury. She marched over to one of her most trusted guards and held out a hand. The woman placed her blaster in the Director's fist.
Director Isard strode back to the head of the table and pointed the blaster at Piett's chest. The man blanched but, to his credit, did not cringe away in fear.
"The Emperor is dead, Captain Piett, as is Lord Vader. I rule the Empire now. And you, having clearly shown your reluctance to provide necessary discipline to the masses, will now be …. eliminated."
She fired the shot at Piett.
It traversed a meter through the air and then suddenly deflected back toward her, as if it had impacted an unseen wall. The bolt barely missed her ear and she staggered back in shock and disbelief, even as the room was suddenly filled with harsh, mechanical breathing. She noticed the men around the table leap to their feet and she spun around.
The black armored giant spoke, "Director Isard, I'm afraid that the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. "
/-/-/-/
7 hours EARLIER
Landing Bay on Imperial Center
The Varykino (hidden in plain sight using counterfeit landing codes)
Padme Amidala sat on the bed watching her husband slowly fumbling his way back into consciousness.
He had spent the last 2 days enduring (his words) a series of medical procedures, none of them particularly invasive but totally annoying (again, his words.)
Her precious Ani. He had never been one for medical centers and after the horrors of Mustafar, she could understand his reluctance to do anything medically that wasn't absolutely necessary.
However, the combined pleas of his wife, his son, and his medical staff had convinced Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, that the time was right to improve his precarious health as much as possible.
Much more could, and should, be done, but it was a start. Anakin had admitted to her, with some reluctance, that his breathing was already better, as was his eyesight, after Sert had used up to date medications and processes to work on both lungs and eyes.
This particular treatment was focused on the scar tissue on Ani's face. She knew that it hurt for him to smile, or frown, or indeed stretch his skin in any way. Again, she felt a surge of hatred at Sidious for causing Anakin to suffer so badly, but then grimly pushed it away. Bitterness would not help, and admittedly Darth Vader's crimes were such that his pain was, in some sense, deserved. Of course, Palpatine's motives had not been retribution, but a way of controlling his powerful servant.
Anakin's eyes opened. She leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.
He smiled at her through the breathing mask, and sat up as she moved over to the bed and settled in beside him.
For a few minutes, they sat there in silence, until Padme felt him tense slightly even as his iconic black mask floated off a nearby table and into his hands.
He stared down at the skull like façade which he had worn in public for nearly 20 years.
"Do you hate it so much?" Padme asked.
"Yes…and no," he said heavily, after a moment, "I despise that it cuts me off from humanity, that it is a barrier between me and those I love. I can see better with it, though, and the enclosed breathing support is more reliable than this mask. Given that I'll almost certainly be in battle, I need to know I can breathe. And…I need to wear it today. For appearances."
Padme nodded. As a politician, she understood that Vader's appearance alone would cause many to submit to him without bloodshed. He was rightly known and feared as a one man army.
"Do you have any advice for me, my love?" Anakin asked softly.
Padme turned so she could look at his face, "What kind of advice?"
"How do I take over an Empire, and almost certainly kill, and stay in the Light? I've killed thousands directly, millions indirectly, Padme. I want to feel something about death, but my heart seems … cold… to all save my family and those who love, or are loved by, my family."
Padme shivered slightly at these words, but forced herself to think. This was real vulnerability on Anakin's part and she hoped she could provide some useful insight.
The silence dragged on for two minute and then she said, "Do you remember Jango Fett, Anakin?"
The scarred face twisted slightly, and he nodded, "He tried to kill you."
"Indeed, and Mace Windu decapitated him on Geonosis. He was a man who killed for money, one could rightly say an evil man. A very dangerous man. And yet, when he died there was a son left behind, was there not?"
"A clone, yes, but Jango raised him as a son. He is a renowned and gifted bounty hunter himself now, Boba Fett. He watched his father die, and hates the Jedi and their associates. I employed him on more than one occasion as Darth Vader."
Padme grimaced but nodded vigorously, "There, you see? A dangerous man with a dangerous clone son. Both men deserve death for their willingness to kill and destroy for money. Yet, the son was grieved over the loss of his father. Perhaps that is part of the key, Anakin, to know that sometimes we have to kill, and yet every death of a sentient is its own tragedy. We can be glad someone is dead, because that person either deserves death or is a danger to innocent lives. And yet, we should never grow callous to death. I too have killed, you know that. And I too grew…almost indifferent…to death during the Clone Wars. So many died, many of them clones. But they were people too, with minds and hearts. I believe I protected myself by not caring as much as I should have."
"You always did care, Padme," her husband rejoined passionately, "Far more than anyone else I know."
She smiled at this, "You might possibly be slightly prejudiced, Anakin."
Then she grew more solemn, "I couldn't take all the death to heart because it would have destroyed me emotionally when I needed to be strong. Sometimes the reports of battlefield casualties, of civilian casualties, became no longer people, just numbers. It was a hard time. We were all affected."
She shrugged slightly, "I don't know, Ani. That's all I have to offer. Think about Jango Fett when you face Ysanne Isard and the other corrupted officials of the Empire. Even if there is nothing to be done with who they are now, there was a time when they could have been something better. That is true of everyone whom we despise and oppose, isn't it?"
Anakin nodded even as he carefully donned his helmet, "I will remember that, Padme. Thank you."
/-/-/
The Varykino
Weapons Locker
Luke stared incredulously as Mara grabbed yet another vibroblade out of the locker, inspected it carefully, scowled at it, and then carefully inserted it in her right boot.
"Exactly how many weapons are you going to carry in there?" he demanded, "I've lost count."
Mara looked up at him, "I think I'm up to 9 now, Skywalker. And if you'll take my advice, you'll carry something more than the lightsaber. I admit you are pretty good with it, but backup is always wise when entering an unknown and volatile situation."
Luke shook his head, "Ben says that a Jedi should need no other weapon than the lightsaber and the Force."
"That's just stupid," Mara snapped back, not mincing words, "And you're not exactly a Jedi yet, are you?"
Luke looked hurt, and she felt a twist of guilt in her gut. She owed Luke so much she shouldn't be insulting him. She knew how much he venerated the old Jedi Master Kenobi.
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment, "I've been trained to use many weapons and I believe that having backups of backups is wise."
His face shifted to being blank, and she could still feel the barrier up between them.
"You must do what you feel is right, naturally," he said stiffly.
She was surprisingly relieved when that most dangerous of men, Lord Vader, suddenly surged through the door of the weapons locker room.
Luke looked somewhat startled to see that his father's mask was back on, and both felt slightly unnerved when his first words were spoken in the well known rumbling bass of his mask's vocoder.
"Jade, were you able to access Isard's schedule?"
She stood and bowed her head respectfully, "Yes, Lord Vader. She has a meeting with a high level group of navy officers and members of the Emperor's Council, including Ars Dangor, in 6 standard hours. I anticipate it will take approximately 2 hours to make our way to the stated location of the conference room. It is of course possible that the posted location will change for security reasons. However, she has chosen the most secure conference room in the Imperial Palace. I'd like to add that the room's door and walls have probably been reinforced with cortosis ore."
"What is that?" Luke asked.
Vader turned to him, "It's a very rare material which shorts out lightsabers. Thus, it would take significant time to cut through the blast doors of the room when they are locked. I doubt that will be necessary, given that Jade and I together have slice codes for much of the Palace."
Luke's brow furrowed and he said hesitantly, "Mara thinks I should carry more than a lightsaber. What do you think, Father?"
Vader stared at Jade for a long moment, then turned to look at his son.
"If it were anyone else, I would say the lightsaber is enough. But you are my son and I love you, and your mother is worried. Bring a backup blaster, though I don't anticipate you will need it."
Luke looked guilty, "Should I stay with her? If she is worried about me…"
"No, Obi-wan will protect her, Son. And you and I can fight together and I cannot fight with Obi-wan, not now. There is still too much between us."
Luke smiled and Mara marveled at the obvious adoration in his eyes. Marveled and felt a strange twinge of envy. Vader was very…blessed…to have a son who loved him so much, in spite of his brutal reputation.
The son in question turned back to Mara and smiled at her as well, and she sensed affection and even, perhaps, something more. She grinned back. She was blessed too, to be even a small part of the Skywalkers' lives.
"All right, Mara, find me the perfect blaster."
/-/-/
6 hours later
Secure Conference Room
Imperial Palace
Imperial Center
Ysanne Isard stared in stunned incredulity for one heart stopping moment.
Darth Vader! It was impossible! He was dead! Or injured! Or a Rebel captive! How had he made his way undetected this far into the palace?
Self interest kicked in.
"Kill him," she snarled at her guards, "He's a dangerous imposter!"
Even as Isard gave that order, she hurled herself to the left and behind a podium standing close to the wall, just barely avoiding the lightsaber that came scything toward her. She reached for a bracelet on her wrist and carefully entered a code, even as she heard the discharge of weapons from her guards and saw a mad scramble of 12 officers and counselors diving for cover.
With a grim smile, she pressed a button on her wrist,
Three explosives went off, explosives which had been carefully wired to the chairs of the 2 Admirals and 1 Councilor whom Isard had planned to execute today.
The men had all hastily vacated their chairs and were huddling behind the table for protection, but the explosions added smoke and confusion, and allowed Isard to dash for a small office adjacent to the conference room.
She saw, out of the corner of her eye, the flash of a lightsaber as Vader (and it clearly was Vader) cut down her elite guard.
She threw herself into the office and slammed the door shut and locked it.
Ysanne Isard slumped to the ground and panted in relief. She was safe for now, with Vader locked outside and the walls and door reinforced with cortosis ore. He wouldn't be able to break in here quickly, and the only other exit was too small for his huge frame.
She rose to her feet and moved to a terminal, intent on contacting her security staff.
/-/-/
Back in the conference room, Vader finished dispatching the remaining security guards. He strode hastily over to the door where Isard had disappeared, and attempted to cut through it with his lightsaber.
He growled, though not in surprise, when the saber shorted out. Cortosis. He sensed she was inside, probably contacting her underlings to deal with his attack.
The Dark Lord turned and observed the Naval officers and Imperial Counselors rising cautiously to their feet. He noted, absently, that two were sporting minor blaster wounds, apparently from deflected laser shots.
The next thing he observed was the look of amazed delight on the faces of 6 of the officers.
Since when had his officers been glad to see him? Had news leaked out that he had turned back towards the Light?
"Lord Vader," Admiral Gotan said in obvious relief, "Lord Vader. I am so glad to see you. Thank the stars that you are alive. Isard is mad, completely mad…"
Vader smiled behind his mask, grimly. He was just the better of two difficult options, apparently.
He glanced at the door as Luke and Jade stepped in.
"Any problems here?" Luke asked casually.
Vader gestured toward the closed office door.
"Isard escaped into that room and the door is cortosis. But she's trapped, at least."
Jade was looking intently at a datapad in her hand, and shook her head.
"There is a back way into that office, Lord Vader, and you won't fit in the corridors."
She looked up and Vader saw a dangerous glint in her eye, "But I can."
Alarms suddenly chimed loudly, and a mechanized voice spoke, "Attention! Attention all personnel! An imposter impersonating the deceased Lord Darth Vader has attacked Director Isard and other high level members of the Navy and Emperor's Council. Platoons 5 through 23 are ordered to proceed to Imperial Conference Room AA4 and destroy the imposter. Repeat…"
"We must take the Control Room of the Palace as quickly as possible," Vader said firmly, "Come with me."
He strode firmly to the exit door and down the corridor with Luke and the others at his heels.
Luke was too focused on his father and the maelstrom of sound and emotion to notice when Mara drifted to the end of the line and slipped away.
Author Note: I'm obviously switching back and forth between Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader, depending on the situation and the person he is talking with. I hope that isn't too confusing.