"What did we just do?" Astral murmurs into his chest. She is laying naked on top of him and it feels amazing. She's warm and soft, like the best weighted blanket ever.
Vader doesn't miss a beat. His mind might be soft and fuzzy with afterglow, but he's already angling for a repeat. "We're not done yet," he informs her. "I'm here tomorrow night."
"For Empire Day?"
"Yes. Once a year, I stand behind Sheev making a speech and we all pretend to be happy warriors for a rosy future." Vader strokes her hair as he grumbles, "I hate holidays." Most especially stupid made up holidays like Empire Day.
"Hating holidays. That sounds very Darth Vader of you," she chuckles.
"If you've heard one of those speeches, you've heard them all," he grouses. "Here's the punchline: 'submit to my fascist agenda for a safe and secure society and we'll all be happier.' What kind of pep talk is that?" he scoffs. "But at least it keeps me here another night." He muses aloud now, "I can be in Coruscant a lot. This is an easy place for me to make an excuse to return." He won't be getting enough of Astral Sidhu anytime soon.
She balks. "I thought we had agreed not to do this."
Nope. They're doing this, he decides for both of them. Because damn, this woman makes him feel young again. With Astral, he's a little reckless and a lot hopeful. And those are nostalgic, life affirming emotions Vader hasn't felt in a long, long time. Stupidly, he let her get away once. He won't make that mistake again. But first, he has to convince her.
"I thought we had agreed not to do this . . . right?" Astral asks when he doesn't immediately answer. Alarmed, she sits up now. She's straddling him laying down and that feels good as well. Plus, the view is better. Astral has great breasts. Not too big, not too small. Just right.
"You said you didn't want to do the long-distance thing," she reminds him.
"I don't."
She looks threatened by this response. Suddenly, she's defensive. "Look, I've got a new life here. I'm not going to back to the castle. I have nightmares about the castle."
"I understand."
"You do?"
"I'll take what I can get of you. If this is what you're offering, then I accept." Vader reaches up to brush away a stray strand of hair that has fallen in front of her eyes. "I am grateful," he adds. This is a compromise he's very willing to make.
"Oh," she reconsiders. "Okay." She starts to warm to the idea. "This could be good . . . This could be good . . . "
He feels compelled to warn, "It could be dangerous. Are you up for that?"
"Not really," she answers honestly. "Can't we keep it a secret?"
"Do you know how many people saw you walk in here? How many cameras you were on?"
"Yikes." He sees her swallow hard as reality sinks in.
Vader levels with her. "Other than my old identity, there are very few secrets in my life." Well, there's one secret. One very deadly secret that he will not burden anyone with but himself. "I'm far too much a public figure to keep us secret for long."
"So, you're saying it will be a very public walk of shame getting out of here tonight?" she sighs.
"Yes." But he doesn't want that. Not yet. They're not done yet. He tugs her down again into his arms, coaxing, "Stay with me. Leave in the morning. Don't tell me you'll be late for work because it's a holiday."
"Alright," she readily agrees.
He feels her relax again. It's on the tip of his tongue to declare himself and to ask her to do the same. Because he wants to know if she could love him. Because he could love her. He could easily love her. But fearful of scaring her off, Vader keeps quiet.
The strategy works because she murmurs drowsily, "I missed you."
"I missed you more." More than she should know, actually. He's embarrassingly needy for this woman. Part of him cannot believe his good fortune for what has transpired tonight. Second chances are rare in life, especially for a Sith.
"I worried about you every time I saw you on the newsfeed," she confesses.
"I worried you would find a new boyfriend on Coruscant. Some rich art dealer who would sweep you off your feet."
"Nah," she decides, teasing him, "I like my men tall, dark, and handsome."
"I can give you two of the three," Vader retorts. But he is legitimately concerned about the boyfriend possibility, so he tentatively broaches the topic. "So . . . what is this? What are we now?"
"Do we have to put a label on it?"
"Should I take that to mean you won't let me put a ring on it?" he replies before he can remember to stop himself.
And, of course, it's the wrong thing to say. He feels her stiffen again. "Let's keep this casual."
"Nothing about my life is casual." As a rule, Dark Lords are not casual. The Dark Side is serious business.
"Be casual for me," she wheedles.
He pushes back. "I'm a commitment kind of guy. The Sith are all or nothing."
"Then, for me, consider yourself Jedi."
He snorts. "If I were Jedi, we wouldn't be in bed together."
"Then consider yourself a corrupted Jedi."
"I guess that shoe fits," he grunts. "Astral, it might be easier for me to protect you if you have a clear label." He could get a wife a security detail. Maybe even a mistress, too.
"Then how about 'super secret lover'?" she suggests playfully.
He makes a face. 'Lover' is not what he's angling for. "Can I at least trade up to girlfriend?"
She turns him down. "No. Lover is good. It's more glamorous and risqué."
"I'm serious," he whines. "At least make this exclusive. Astral, I won't share you with another." He's the jealous type. He'll kill any man who touches her.
"Fine," she decides. "I'll be your 'super secret exclusive lover.'"
"What does that mean exactly if it's not a girlfriend?"
She thinks a moment. "It means that we will care for each other. That I will keep your secrets and keep my freedom and independence."
"I'm more worried about you keeping your head," he grumbles.
"Then don't make me a target, my Lord. Keep me on the down low," she tosses off some slang as she snuggles deeper. Her words push him away even as her arms tug him closer.
Vader keeps negotiating in view of her mixed signals. "What else are you offering? What am I getting out of this arrangement?"
"Unlimited sleepovers in your egg."
He accepts. "Deal." For now, at least. He reserves the right to reopen the issue in the future. But for tonight, he'll stop there lest he screw it up again with heavy-handed overtures and talk of forever.
And now that's settled, he raises another thorny topic. By virtue of his position, he is privy to many secrets of the Empire. Vader now divulges the current best kept one. He wants her to know so there will be as few secrets between them as possible. "Astral, Sheev's building another one."
"Another what?"
"Another Death Star."
She sits up straight away. "N-Nooo—" Her expression says it all.
"It's true."
"You have to stop him!"
"I will." There will be no more Alderaans on his watch. "First, I'm going to try to slow him down."
"No! You have to stop him!" she shrieks.
He nods. He understands her emotion for the issue. This is very personal for Astral. So he promises, "If I can't kill the project with delays, I will get the Rebels to blow it up."
"How?"
"I'll tell them where to find it and how to do it."
Her eyes narrow. "That's treason."
"Yes."
She lets that admission sink in a moment. Then she boldly announces, "You should be the Emperor. You would be a great Emperor."
Vader sighs. He appreciates the vote of confidence—really, he does—but this is a sore subject still. Astral doesn't know that, of course, so he comes clean. "Long ago, that was the plan. Sheev knows it, too. He even foresaw it in the Force. But that future is gone. The future is always in motion. Some versions never come to fruition." Like the one in which he killed his Master to ascend to the top of the Empire and ruled happily ever after with Padme as a benevolent dictator.
"The Emperor sees the future?" Astral looks as alarmed as she does intrigued.
"I used to see it too. Not anymore. Not since I was hurt." Too much of his Force is gone, Vader supposes. The cosmic Force hides its secrets from him now. The living Force of the here and now is his only ally of late.
"What is that like?" she wants to know.
Vader answers honestly. "It was a burden to know the future, not a blessing. There was too much temptation to try to change it. That made it a trap. Destiny can only be outrun for so long before it must be confronted."
"So you know your destiny?" she marvels.
He sighs. "I thought I did. But now . . . I'm not so sure."
"Tell me," she presses.
Vader decides to reveal more, and their pillow talk now shifts to power and the Force. Those are the two defining topics of his life, for better or for worse. And if he is going to have any future with Astral, she needs to understand that he has been disappointed by more than just the loss of his wife and his children. There are bigger issues at stake beyond his personal happiness. And that may be where his epic failure has had the most lasting consequence.
He begins, "Long ago, the Jedi called me the Chosen One. They thought I would be the one with all the answers." Instead, he raised too many questions that are as yet still unresolved. "It was a prophesy as old as the Jedi Order itself. It promised that there would one day come a Jedi Master who would bring balance to the Force." He recalls aloud the words that still haunt him to this day:
"In the time of greatest despair,
a child shall be born
who will destroy the Sith
and bring balance to the Force."
"There are a couple different versions of the wording. But that's the one most commonly used. We were taught it as younglings. We all memorized the passage from the Journal of the Wills, too." Now again, Vader recites the singsong kiddie version:
"First comes the day
Then comes the night.
After the darkness
Shines through the light.
The difference, they say,
Is only made right
By the resolving of gray
Through refined Jedi sight."
"What does that mean?" Astral asks, sounding genuinely puzzled. "Say it again. Slower, this time, please."
He declines, telling her, "Don't get hung up on the actual words. Translations can be loose, especially when the prophecy is handed down over a thousand generations. Focus on the bigger picture that there will come a messiah of the Force to unify the traditions of the Dark and the Light. That's the point of the Chosen One prophesy: that in the end, change will come to unify us all."
"And you were supposed to be that guy . . . the Chosen One?"
"Yes." He continues, "It is a Jedi prophesy written from their point of view, so that's why it speaks of destruction of the Sith and of refining Jedi sight. But the Sith have their own version of the Chosen One myth. Their tradition includes a legend of a Sith overlord who will rise to power and ultimately destroy the Sith. But in doing so, he will make the Sith more powerful than ever before. Basically, through their demise, the Sith are renewed. A bunch of dead Sith Lords have tried to lay claim to the mantle of the Sith'ari, including my Master's own master Darth Plagueis. But none yet has measured up."
"And what about the Jedi? Was this S-Sith'ari," Astral stumbles over the unfamiliar word, "supposed to destroy the Jedi?"
"Oh, naturally," Vader drawls. "The Sith took it on faith that they would destroy their enemy. They wouldn't bother with prophecy about that event. They viewed the end of the Jedi Order as a natural consequence of the superiority of the Sith. But the point is that both sides—the Dark and the Light—conceived of the same concept. Whether you look for a Jedi Master Chosen One or a Sith Master Sith'ari, you look for an extraordinary man who will end the war over the Force once and for all." Does she think this is a bunch of religious hooey? It's not. Vader tells her solemnly, "Astral, it's true, all of it. My Master knows it, too."
"And you were supposed to be that man?" she asks again.
"Yes."
"Is that why the Emperor wanted you as Apprentice?" Astral is sharp as ever as she cuts right to the crux of the matter.
"Yes. He who controls the Chosen One, controls the Force," Vader answers glumly, for this is the failure that he regrets most of all. He was supposed to be the divine redeemer of the Force. Born from the Force to remake the Force. But instead, he has been revealed to be humiliatingly fallible and entirely too mortal. Now kept alive by mechanics and sharply reduced in his Force sensitivity, he is a poor excuse for a messiah.
Astral is still trying to make sense of it all. "I don't understand. If you are the Chosen One, then you were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them . . . right?"
It's true. Obi-Wan had said the same thing long ago. "The irony is that joining the Sith is what has convinced me of the need to destroy them," Vader admits. "I destroyed the Jedi Order. It was the right thing to do. If I could, I would destroy the Sith as well. I would end this destructive conflict that has plagued the Force for thousands of generations."
He's thought a lot about this topic. It makes his words come out vehement. "Astral, both religions are wrong. You don't worship half the Force. You must revere it in its totality. Otherwise, you are inexorably led to extremes. Like the Jedi were led into a ridiculously pure version of the Light with their cult of rules and control. And like Sheev is now consumed with Darkness with his paranoia and megalomania. We need a more moderate path forward for the future."
"You still want to balance the Force, don't you?" she observes softly.
"Yes." He would dearly love to fulfill his destiny as the Chosen One. Not for his own aggrandizement, but for the sake of his son and all the Force users to come. But alas, there is no destroying the Sith to balance the Force so long as Sheev lives. And since Vader can't kill him, he will fail in his calling. "It is too late for me now. But maybe someone else can do it."
"Like who? The Jedi are extinct."
"Like that pilot," Vader risks divulging.
"The pilot?" Astral recoils. Her eyes narrow. "You mean the Death Star pilot? I thought you were going to kill him."
"I've changed my mind."
"Why? Why would you do that?" She is alarmed. "My Lord, you must protect yourself!"
"I think I might need to protect the pilot instead," he muses. "To keep him from being my replacement Apprentice. To safeguard him for whatever the Force has in mind for him."
"But he's a Rebel," Astral pushes back. "Doesn't that make him your enemy?"
"Yes," Vader concedes.
"Then why would you help him?"
"The pilot is strong with the Force. That's no accident. He will be important to the future."
"Not if you kill him," she urges, sounding very bloodthirsty. It's unlike her, but Vader knows it's motivated by a desire to protect him. And that's endearing. Astral cares far more than her arm's length posturing lets on.
And here he goes with more lore of the Force, telling her, "The Jedi used to teach that especially strong Force users were agents of change. They occur for a reason. They rise to influence things. My first Jedi Master was one. He was a maverick on the outs with the High Council. Qui-Gon was full of ideas they found threatening. But everyone liked him so much that they tolerated him for the most part. He died before he did anything truly revolutionary. But he was heading that direction."
Astral nods and makes another one of her insightful statements. "He sounds a lot like you."
He was. "I wish he had lived. Things might have gone differently." He's now twenty years a Sith, but there are still moments when Vader thinks he senses his original Jedi Master in the Force. Everyone else from his past has long since given up on him, but not Qui-Gon Jinn. The man might have been problematic in his own time, but in many respects, he had the true spirit of a Jedi. It was the Order that had strayed too far from its core principles.
"So . . . you think this pilot might be the next big thing?" Astral worries.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Sheev has gone off the deep end into Darkness. The Force already used the pilot to destroy Sheev's super weapon. Maybe it has bigger plans for him going forward."
"I don't understand."
She's missing the significance of balance, Vader realizes. So he tells Astral, "If I'm right and the Force defaults to balance, then when Darkness rises, the Light will rise to meet it. That pilot is the balance for Sheev."
"Sounds more like conflict than balance to me," she harrumphs. "Balance sounds nice. Like peace and harmony. Not like blowing up Death Stars."
"In practice, balance has mostly been dissonance," Vader concedes. "The Dark and Light have historically been equal enemies who endure. That's a sort of balance, even if it's not peace. I thought I could change all that." He shakes his head with rueful regret.
"Could you change it still? With the enemy pilot?" she ventures.
"It's risky to approach him." Although Vader daydreams often of that very move.
"Yeah, I could see that. He probably wants to kill you," Astral reasons.
Regrettably so. "With the right training from Sheev, the pilot probably could kill me," Vader admits. It's a depressing thought. Vader knows he was far stronger as a Jedi than he is as a Sith, thanks mostly to his injuries.
"What about training from you?" Astral suggests.
Vader's yellow eyes pin her down. Because this too he daydreams about. "What do you mean?"
Astral goes there. She goes right there. "Could you train this pilot to kill the Emperor for you?"
"Now, who's talking treason?" He shoots her a look.
"You brought it up," she reminds him. Then, she warms to the idea. "My Lord, you could rule the galaxy and the pilot could be your Apprentice."
It's a fantasy he would love, but Vader's days of dreaming that big are over. For one, it's far too risky. Vader would never enlist his son in that cause knowing full well that the entire burden of killing Sheev would fall on Luke since Vader himself is so weak. And besides, there is a larger issue here—the goal of overthrowing Sheev wouldn't be the usual 'kill and replace' cycle of the Dark Side renewing itself. "I don't want him to be Sith." Luke Skywalker will not repeat his father's mistakes if Darth Vader has anything to say about it.
Astral isn't troubled by the semantics. "Call it whatever you want. If Sheev is dead, can't you just remake the Force how you like? And then, there will be no more Death Stars. No more Alderaans." She sounds so hopeful. For Astral, naturally, is focused on her own concerns. She doesn't appreciate the whole context of who the pilot is nor does she fully appreciate the dynamics of the Force.
Vader grumbles again. "I don't want him to be Sith." That's why he plans to hide his boy. To protect him.
Meanwhile, Astral's suggesting they plow headlong into danger. She's enthusiastic, too. "Think about it—together you could reform the Empire. Make it better. With the pilot's Rebel ideas and your knowledge and experience of the Empire, surely you two would be an effective team? It could unite the galaxy once more." She sounds truly excited.
"It's not that easy." It's terribly complicated, actually. Fraught with terrible risk for all involved. Vader only sees the downsides and they are very, very steep.
"I know," she concedes. "But it sounds good." She grumbles, "I'd love for you to get out from under Sheev. I hate how he treats you. I think I hate our Emperor," she says fiercely.
"That pilot needs to stay far away from Sheev," Vader growls. He will protect his boy for as long as he can. There's no way he will ever enlist his son in a treason plot that might get them both killed.
Unaware of the pertinent facts, Astral misunderstands. "I get it. You don't want Sheev to get any ideas to replace you."
And that's part of it, but not all of it. Mostly, he wants to protect Luke. Vader has long wondered why he lived after his defeat to Obi-Wan. Why is he still here? It must be because he still has a purpose. There must be work yet to be done before the Force calls him home. For years, Vader assumed that work was to temper Sheev and to help rule the Empire. But now Vader suspects that his purpose has only recently been revealed: he lives to protect Luke Skywalker. But he cannot confide that to Astral.
"Sheev's been fine lately," Vader tells her. "Look, your plan would never work. I'm not sure Sheev's even capable of dying."
"Everyone dies," she scoffs.
"Not on the Dark Side," Vader counters, thinking of the mysterious Lord Plagueis who is rumored to have conquered death for others, if not for himself. "Sheev has a lot of contingencies for his own demise. It's not just his clones. The guy has long been paranoid his reign will end and not on his terms. Immortality been his focus for years. Killing Sheev might be a lot harder now."
They fall silent a for bit. The sober tone of their discussion has put a damper on the evening. So much for keeping things light and casual.
Beside him, Astral is still thinking. She might be a complete newbie on the lore of the Force, but she's intelligent and thoughtful. Yet again, she gets right to the heart of the matter. "I don't get it. With the Death Star gone, what's the Darkness rising that's brought on this pilot? Where's the need for balance coming from? Is it the threat of this new Death Star?"
"Maybe." Vader isn't sure himself. "The Force is a rough justice, not an exact science. It ebbs and flows. But we've been twenty years without much influence of the Light, so perhaps things will shift again toward the Jedi."
"But aren't you the Light of the Empire?"
"What?" The comment surprises him. Sith that he is, he's taken aback.
Astral clearly fears that she has offended him. But she answers nonetheless. "Well, I don't know much about the Force, but you talk a lot more about the Jedi than you do the Sith. And you seem to balance some of the more extreme aspects of Sheev."
She's right . . . but only to a point. "I'm not as effective as you think I am."
"Well, I still don't get it. If you're sort of Jedi and sort of Sith, and assuming this new Rebel guy is a Jedi since the Rebellion is all about the Old Republic, then shouldn't the need for balance come on the Dark Side? Isn't it the Dark Side that should feel threatened?" she wonders.
"Sheev is plenty paranoid."
"Well, what do I know?" Astral sighs. "It just seems like the Dark Side should be rising now, but guess that's impossible since you and Sheev are the only Sith."
"Yes." Well, supposedly. But that's a whole other issue. Plus, Vader's had enough troubling Force talk. As it is, this conversation has veered far too close to that Death Star pilot's identity. That's a secret Vader does not plan to share with anyone ever.
Hours later, Astral has gone home and Vader finds himself standing on the dais with the rest of the Imperial leadership. Sheev is at the rostrum giving his annual state of the galaxy speech. This is the one day a year when Vader is actually thankful that he wears a mask. He doesn't need to pretend to look interested for the cameras. This year's address is particularly gloomy. It's all vows to avenge the Death Star victims and thinly veiled threats to the Alliance leaders. The long eulogy for Alderaan in the middle is laughably ironic. Vader indulges in some eye rolling for that ten minutes of extremely grating insincerity.
Is Luke Skywalker watching this speech somewhere with his Rebel comrades? Vader wonders what his prodigal son thinks of all this patriotic pomp and chest thumping. Back when Vader was his son's age, he had believed all of this crap. How had he been so gullible? Mostly because he was raised Jedi to believe in abstract concepts of justice, truth, and peace. It didn't help things that he had been serially searching for father figures his whole life. Sheev took full advantage of that neediness, grooming him for years to be skeptical of the Jedi. But now, many years later, Vader has come full circle. He stands cynical and complicit to the big lie that is the Empire. No one knows better than he does just how petty, greedy, and smallminded his Master truly is. It's always only about him. All this fluff about the public good is bullshit and always has been. It just took Vader a while to see it. The vast majority of the galaxy hasn't still hasn't wised up. Only the Rebels see Palpatine for what he is, but their solutions are unacceptable in Vader's mind.
Moments like this will make it very hard to convince his son of his own sincerity, Vader knows. But maybe if Luke understands the trap of the Apprentice role, he will realize the predicament Vader lives in. He's the enforcer of the galaxy and the chief wrangler of Sheev's cult of personality, even if he hates it. But he can't quit and live, so Vader goes along with it and subverts where he can.
Finally, the lengthy ceremony ends. Now, it's time for his obligatory interview with Sheev. It begins with groveling, as usual. Vader lumbers down on one knee in the sepulcher throne room that he privately thinks is a silly affectation. There's trying to be Sith, and there's trying too hard to be Sith. Sheev errs on the side of the latter choice each and every time. Still, Vader knows his place and fulfills his role. He bows his head low in supplication, giving Lord Sidious his full obeisance due.
"My Master," he intones with faux reverence honed from long practice.
"Arise, Lord Vader," Sheev croaks. Normally all the public adulation of Empire Day strokes his Master's ego and puts him in a good mood. But not today. Lord Sidious scowls and sneers, "Why does the Rebellion still persist?"
And thus begins one of their typical colloquies. Sheev asks questions not to elicit information or to engage in discussion. He's trying to make a point. Vader says the bare minimum in response, hoping to keep things short.
"Well?" indignant Sheev demands.
"I will find them, Master."
"You're not even close to finding them! I need arrests! Get me Mon Mothma so I can parade her in handcuffs, give her a trial, and a public execution."
That's a bad call, Vader thinks. Giving that woman a platform to air her views is a mistake. And making her a martyr for democracy will only encourage others to her cause. But he keeps those thoughts to himself.
"I need prisoners. I need progress. Get me something to show for your efforts," his Master hisses.
"There have been no further attacks," Vader points out.
"That line won't work forever. I promised the people justice. Get me some Rebels traitors to kill. Lord Vader, you make me look ineffective," his Master complains.
"I will find them," Vader promises again before he changes the topic. "Are you bringing back the Senate?"
"Not with a Rebellion in my midst."
"Bringing back the Senate will undercut the Rebels' claims that you are a tyrant." Sheev needs to blunt the message of the Rebels by making himself appear reasonable. The goal ought to be to portray the Rebels as the extremists. To claim the moral high ground. But, as usual, Sheev is oblivious. As he gets older, he becomes more and more dismissive of public opinion. The man's arrogance is his weakness.
True to form, Lord Sidious does not disappoint. "I am the Senate," Sheev proclaims. "Once more the Sith rule the galaxy and I am that Sith," he sniffs. "Democracy died years ago, Lord Vader. The Senate has long been superfluous."
Yes, he is well aware. But that's not the point. "The people don't know that." Vader recalls now how important the symbolism of the Senate had been to Astral. Vader suspects she is not alone in her view. And if the Empire loses support of moderates like Astral, the Rebels just might win. How easy might it have been to invite the disbanded Imperial Senate leadership to stand on the dais today with the rest of Sheev's cronies? To make it at least appear like the Senate was still relevant even if it was temporarily disbanded during the Rebellion crisis? But tone deaf Sheev hadn't wanted to share the limelight. It was a missed opportunity for some political stagecraft in Vader's opinion.
The uncomfortable truth is that Sheev seems to be enjoying the Rebel threat. He's using it as an excuse to crack down for all sorts of minor infractions that are really just Sheev's pet peeves. His Master is doing what he loves the most—punishing. The man is a sadist at heart. Gleeful for the chance to inflict harm. "Find them! Wipe them out! All of them!" he crows. Sheev sounds like an overtired toddler on the verge of a tantrum.
But it's Vader's cue to make a fist and vow, "The traitors will pay, my Master." And did he deliver that line with sufficient emotion? Managing Sheev can be a tricky thing.
He must have succeeded because Sheev moves on. "Can you feel the Darkness churning?" he purrs. "Do you sense the imminent change?"
Honestly, no. Vader fesses up. "No, my Master." There's no point in pretending, and Sith Masters get off on displays of humility that they can in turn condescend to.
"Hmmm," Sheev half-growls, half-snorts. "So weak you are in the Shadow Force. Dooku had more command of the Dark Side than you do. Of course, he wasn't half a man like you are."
Vader silently endures the humiliation. It's part of his job to be the whipping boy.
"Triumph lies ahead. I can feel it," Sheev boasts. "The last time I felt this much anticipation was the day I was elected Chancellor. That was not the beginning, but it was a turning point. It gave me the impetus I needed to strike against my Master. He died with a smile on his face, like all Sith Masters do. Confident that he had played his part and done his duty to rear the next son of Darkness. Of course," Lord Sidious muses smugly, "you will never see that smile upon my face. For I cannot be betrayed. I cannot be defeated. Certainly not by the likes of you," he scoffs.
That's Vader's cue for some more groveling. "I serve you, my Master."
"Yes, and you shall serve until you die, Lord Vader," Sheev cackles. "Soon this insignificant Rebellion will be put down. The Sith shall rule unopposed once more. And then, yet again my power will grow. I am close, so close to a breakthrough, Apprentice. That is what this disturbance in the Force portends, I'm sure of it."
Whatever. So long as Sheev doesn't sense Luke Skywalker on the Light Side, then he can play around with his archaic Sith spells, alchemy, and incantations as much as he wants. Whatever the Dark Side is cooking up, hopefully it will obscure his son's emergence onto the scene for as long as possible. So bring on whatever Dark craziness Sheev is sensing, Vader thinks to himself.
A true Sith would find that lack of faith disturbing, but Vader doubts he has ever been a true Sith. Sure, his body count is respectable, he'd dearly love to murder his Master, and he's always craved power. But not for himself. And that's the key. A true Sith is selfish. They care about themselves, not the aims of the Force or the greater good. Vader has never managed to fit that paradigm and he knows he never will. He might have been a lousy Jedi, but he's also a lousy Sith. But Hell, he's the Chosen One, so he's fine with it. Neither category fits him and that's the point.
Vader stoically listens to Sheev berate him some more. Then, Sheev moves on to pontificate about the pursuit of power and his preeminent place in the history of the Sith. How he will surpass Darth Vitiate in sorcery and as a statesman. How like Darth Bane he will remake the Sith anew. How he will make Sion, Nihilus, Malgus, and the rest of the Old Sith Empire heroes look like pussies with red lightsabers. Sheev does all but beat his chest for emphasis. But all Vader hears beneath these proud words is deep seeded insecurity and fears for his legacy. As weird as it seems, in moments like these, Vader strongly senses that his Master is afraid of him. And that doesn't make sense.
Thankfully, in barges Lady Sidious on clicking high heels to end the interview. She's a tiny woman, but she's all loud voice and loud clothes, as usual. "Sheev? Sheeeev? Are you in here?" she brays. She knows perfectly well he's in here. Who else sits on a throne in the Imperial palace?
She glances over at him. "Oh, hi. How are you, Ani?" She's the only one left alive who calls him 'Ani.' And she tends to mother him just like every woman who has ever called him Ani.
"Not now," Lord Sidious growls at his interrupting wife. The woman is never seen in public and seldom seen in private, and yet she exerts an outsize influence over his Master. She might be his one redeeming quality, Vader considers.
They begin bickering, as usual. "Wrap it up," Lady Sidious growls back. "Mas sent me in here because you're late for hair and makeup for your holonet interview."
"Let them wait," Sheev decrees. "I don't need to look pretty."
"If you want time for your guys to edit and preapprove the tape before it airs on prime time, you need to wrap this up. Give Ani his marching orders and be done," Lady Sidious orders, just as imperiously as her spouse. She shoots Vader a wink—she's always liked him even if the feeling is not mutual—before she tells Sheev, "He's heard enough for today. Save it for next time he's in town. He needs to be off chasing Rebels or Senator Mothma's going to be sitting on that throne."
And that ends that. Sheev's trashy Underworld wife is the only person in the galaxy who gets the last word over Emperor Palatine. And that's a good thing. The unacknowledged Lady Sidious might be a political liability with her sleazy profession and thoroughly down market first impression, but she's very smart. Very little gets past that woman.
Next, Vader takes two perfunctory economic briefings during which he largely indulges in lurid fantasies of his upcoming night with Astral. He's like a randy teenage Padawan where she is concerned. Then he and the rest of the Imperial inner circle congregate back at the palace to watch the broadcast of Sheev's folksy holonet interview.
His Master began the day with doom and gloom rhetoric from the podium, but his one-on-one conversation is vintage Senator Palpatine. The man knows how and when to turn on the grandfatherly charm, with equal parts wise reassurance and gentle chiding tough love. This is the demeanor he perfected in his decades of public life during which he was required to be elected. It's the public face that most in the galaxy admire and trust. It's also the well-honed act that duped young Anakin Skywalker many years ago. Just watching it now makes Vader angry at what a fool he was all over again.
He sees now how slowly and expertly Sheev had lured him. It was a mix of attention, encouragement, and flattery. All because Darth Sidious was determined to control the Chosen One. He succeeded. The man is a master at manipulation. It makes Vader fear for the fate of his son. He can see it now: Sheev will stoke the boy's anger at his father. For his abandonment, for the fate of his mother, for the fate of Owen and Beru Lars, for the fate of Obi-Wan, and for the excesses of the Empire that are routinely ordered by Sheev but publicly blamed on Darth Vader. It will be hard to refute Sheev's wiles because . . . well, most of it is true. But true facts do not comprise the whole truth. Motives matter. Nuance matters. Context matters, too. Truth is distressingly malleable and highly dependent on your point of view. But high on Dark power with Sheev egging him on, young Luke Skywalker probably won't see any of that. He'll just lust to kill. And that's yet another demoralizing thought.
Finally, the congratulatory happy talk of Sheev's cronies is over. The sycophants declare this Empire Day the best ever. The group adjourns to the fancy banquet dinner held annually at the palace. That is Vader's cue to disappear next door. Darth Vader cannot eat in public and that gets him a pass for tonight.
So, with a rare spring in his step, he heads for his quarters for Astral. In her arms tonight, he will briefly forget that he is a monster whose face would scare children. That he is the ruthless bogeyman the whole galaxy is conditioned to fear. Vader takes gleeful pleasure in making love to a woman who urges him to treason right next door to Sheev's palace. Vader would never act on those ambitions—he values his life too much to throw it away—but he appreciates Astral's support anyway. It's the ego boost he needs right now. So what does the Force have in store for him? And for Luke Skywalker? And what change does Sheev sense coming? Vader doesn't know. But tonight, he can forget all that with Astral.
All too soon, it is morning and they must part.
"When will I see you again?" Astral asks.
"I'll make some excuse to get back here next month," he replies. "Vanee will contact you."
"So long?" She looks disappointed. Vader is quickly realizing that Astral's reticence is not for pursuing their relationship so much as it is for giving their relationship a formal label. It's the legacy of her failed marriage, he suspects.
But he can't get back here any sooner. "Sheev just told the galaxy that he's going to bring the Rebels to justice. That puts more pressure on me to find them. That mission is my first priority." And, luckily, it's also a good cover for his private mission to find his son.
Astral raises that issue again herself now. "You find that pilot and you kill him," she tells him with uncharacteristic harshness. "I don't care about the Force. I care about you. And if he's gone, you're safe," she reasons. Because, of course, Astral doesn't know what's she is asking of him.
This is the moment to reveal the pilot's identity. To tell the truth of his conundrum. To confess his worst fears for his son. And also, to share his biggest hopes. But Vader resists. The fewer people who know this secret, the best for all involved.
"Leave him to me," he replies. Then, Vader kisses goodbye his girlfriend who refuses to be his girlfriend and heads off to war yet again.
It's harder to leave her than he lets on. For he is weary, oh so very weary of this dissatisfying life he has convinced himself to accept. He has invested twenty years in Sheev's Empire, shoring it up and keeping it together. But his heart's no longer in it. Part of Vader wants to cheer on the Rebels, not hunt them down. Because now that Astral has appeared and his long-lost son has surfaced, Vader wants more. He wants better. He's tired of going through the motions because he has no alternative. Last night's talk of treason has stuck with him. It has rekindled old ambitions, re-envisioned for the new opportunities Luke and Astral present. And try as he might to tamp down that foolishness, it takes hold and burrows deep. Because more and more lately—even though he knows better-Darth Vader thinks that he's had enough.