"I knew you would be back." Cloaked and hooded Darth Plagueis the Wise purrs out his smug satisfaction.

It is irritating. Vader isn't happy to be back in a rundown Sith Temple on Naboo talking to this guy of all people. But the events of Bespin were deeply unsettling. He's at a loss for what to do and where to go next. Vader is too much of a veteran campaigner not to realize that he needs help. So he'll let this leftover, has-been think he's playing along with his schemes in exchange for some free advice. This guy plotted the Clone Wars so he's got plenty of strategic insight. Vader plans to listen to what the broken Muun has to say and be noncommittal.

"Need my help, do you?"

Isn't that obvious? But Vader refuses to acknowledge it.

"Come now, I know you found him," Plagueis prods.

"Who talked?"

"Your bounty hunter friend. Guns for hire are just that—guns for hire And I pay more than you do," the old Master smirks.

Yes, that's what Vader thought. And now, though it pains him to do so, he spits out, "Thank you for collecting Astral." Had things gone differently, she might have been in real danger. This guy is still totally untrustworthy, but he did prove useful. So Vader coughs up an obligatory thank you.

"You are most welcome." His counterpart regally nods like it's noblesse oblige, making Vader all the more irritated to be indebted to him. "I like your wife. She's good for you, my boy," Plagueis piles on more condescension. Then, he's on to business. "Well, did you meet Luke?"

"Yes." Disappointment makes Vader especially terse. How does he explain what happened without making himself look bad? He settles on brevity. "He escaped."

And that outcome is not a surprise to the crafty Muun. "That was the idea, Lord Vader."

No, that was Plagueis' idea, not his own. Vader had intended all along to capture his boy and to hide him away. For his son does not yet realize his importance. Young Luke has no idea how much danger he is in from Palpatine. And, very likely, from this shady Muun.

Darth Plagueis has sharp eyes that seem to look through his mask. Right now, they stare intently as he awaits more information. Feeling increasingly sheepish, Vader glosses over things again. "The Force was with him. That Rebel princess repaid the favor for her rescue off the Death Star."

"Did she now?" Plagueis looks somewhat amused at this news. "How the Force works in mysterious ways," he chuckles.

And what is that supposed to mean? "The princess is not with Luke. She's attached to some smuggler fellow."

"The one you gave to Jabba the Hutt?"

"Yes." How did Plagueis know that? Oh yes, from the bounty hunter who he paid handsomely.

"What did you learn from the boy? Tell me about the boy."

"He's a Rebel," Vader answers glumly. "A terrorist extremist." This is the explanation for Luke's death leap at Bespin, he has decided. His kid is a zealot. Maybe that shouldn't be a surprise since Luke Skywalker is the celebrated hero pilot of the Rebellion and the last true Jedi Padawan. But it is deeply disappointing. Vader is frustrated and slightly terrified of what happens next. That's why he is back in this gloomy temple meeting once again with the mysterious Muun whose motives are anyone's guess. "He is lost to me already. Kenobi had him first, then Yoda," Vader laments. "They ruined him."

The Sith Master across the room disagrees. "He blew up your Death Star, but he is no true Rebel. Luke Skywalker is a farm boy who got caught up in events of your own making. It was you, Lord Vader, who flushed the boy and Kenobi out of hiding."

"No," he bristles. "It was an accident that Luke intercepted those plans."

Plagueis shoots him a sharp look of reproof and wags a skeletal clawed finger his direction. "That was no accident. That was the Force. You yourself set things in motion that led to this conclusion. If he's a radical, it's because your men killed his aunt and uncle and you yourself slayed his mentor. The boy doesn't know enough yet to put those actions in proper context. He still thinks you are the villain."

"I'm sure Yoda has told him plenty," Vader gripes. But he volunteers the one bright spot of the Bespin confrontation, "Luke is strong with the Force."

"How strong?"

"Very strong." Vader can't keep the wistful note from his voice. Because he too had once been strong with the Force in his youth. "He is strong with the Force but half trained at best."

Plagueis nods. "That is to be expected. In the end, it means he will have less to unlearn. What else?"

"Kenobi told him that I betrayed and murdered his father."

The Muun chuckles at this news. Like it's funny, even though it's not. Far from it, actually. "I suppose that tale is true," Plagueis muses slyly, "from a certain point of view. Luke was surprised then. Good," he approves. "It will force young Skywalker to reconsider much of what he has been told. Was he angry?" The Muun sounds hopeful.

Vader considers the question. "Disbelieving."

"How did you convince him to believe the truth? Did you tell him anything of your past?"

"No."

"So you did not speak of your Jedi years? Of how you came to reject their creed?"

"No."

"Does he know that he was stolen from you by the Jedi? Does he know that he was raised their soft hostage? To be the instrument of their revenge on his own father?"

"No."

"Did you tell him anything of yourself? Of your own upbringing on Tatooine?"

"No." They didn't do much talking. They were far too busy fighting.

"What about his mother? Did you tell him about his mother? Boys always love their mothers."

Again, "No." And actually, Vader doesn't want to talk about Padme to Luke. He'd rather not go there. It's too painful and awkward to confess that he choked her while the boy was still in the womb.

"Did you tell him about his lost twin sister, then? Did you promise the boy that we will search until we reunite all the living Skywalkers?"

"No." Vader fights the urge to shift his stance uncomfortably. He's not enjoying the elder Sith's cross examination.

"Then what did you tell him?" Plagueis demands. He's impatient and clearly unimpressed by what he's hearing. "Did you at least make him an offer?"

"Yes. He refused."

"Indeed. What a surprise." Darth Plagueis gives him a hard, contemptuous look. Then he reaches into his voluminous robes for something. "Tell me, Lord Vader, did you make him the offer before or after this?"

The Sith Master hurls to the ground at Vader's feet a clear plastic bag. Inside it is his old Jedi lightsaber hilt. And wrapped around it is his son's bloody and shriveled severed hand.

Well, fuck.

Vader just looks.

Darth Plagueis steps forward and his tone is stone cold. "So to persuade the orphaned son who thought you killed his father, you decide to capture and torture his best friends and the girl he admires? And when you finally meet the boy, you tell him who you are. But you share nothing of the man who he and the rest of the galaxy know only as a mask. You do not tease him with truths of the past and stories of his mother. You do not tempt him to find in you the family he has never had. You merely offer him the Dark Side he has been taught to fear. And then, to seal the deal, you cut off his hand?" The senior Sith sneers his sarcasm, "How strategic of you to confirm everything negative the boy believes about you."

Again, Vader says nothing.

"Was this necessary?" the Muun hisses as he gestures to his son's gory rotting hand. "Can the Jedi hero of the Clone Wars not out-duel a boy with meager training? Surely, he was not even a credible threat to a mature Sith. Could you not gracefully have ended the fight at a draw to encourage the boy and to help him save face?"

"He landed a blow," Vader explains stiffly.

"Good for him!" the Muun snaps back. "You should have commended the boy's efforts rather than punished him." Plagueis is seething with indignant anger now. It's . . . well, it's very effective. Sheev Palpatine has nothing on his old Master. This guy is well and truly terrifying right now. Vader doesn't just see his hot rage, he feels it in the Force. Pulsating fast and hard. Like it is barely restrained.

"Your goal was to persuade, Lord Vader! To lure! To make Luke question everything he knows about the man he thought killed his father. To make him wonder about the motives of his Jedi mentors. To dangle bits and pieces of truth that contradict the lies that boy was raised on. All with the promise that you, his long-lost, welcoming father, will supply the answers. He is hungry for truth, and you have it!" Old Darth Plagueis steps back now and crosses his arms as he passes judgment. "How very deeply you disappointment me, son."

Silence hangs heavy in the air for a long moment between the two men. But Vader regroups. He's Palpatine's Apprentice. He's used to criticism. Plus, this isn't the first time he has let people down. So with a resignation born of long practice, he shrugs it off. "The boy will be back."

"Possibly," the Muun concedes. "Our best hope now is that he will be back with revenge in his heart and we can use it to stoke his Darker impulses. To pry him out of the Jedi mindset." The Sith's yellow eyes narrow and flash at him. "I am half tempted to let him kill you as his path of descent into Darkness. For if young Skywalker hates you enough to leap to certain death rather than join you, he hates you enough to kill you."

Vader is now further taken aback. Just how much does this guy know and how does he know it? And how did he get the saber? His stormtroopers hadn't been able to locate it. Vader is confounded. Defensive. And deeply suspicious.

Darth Plagueis now returns to his plotting. "We need a new strategy for the boy. Sheev will think him more powerful now that he has escaped you. And," that ruined face slants Vader a sideways glance, "he did land a blow."

Vader fumes in silence. He doesn't like being reminded of that.

"You have endangered yourself further. The stronger that boy appears, the more expendable you become. And if the boy is prepared to kill you, then that will become Sheev's next move. He will pit you against one another. It is the obvious play."

"He can't kill me," Vader rumbles.

"Are you sure about that?" Plagueis needles him back. "Because if Sheev gets the three of you in the same room, there will be a fight to the death. You may be forced to kill Luke to save face with Sheev. To save yourself. Are you prepared to do that?"

No. Hell no. But Vader refuses to look like a sentimental fool before this legendary Sith Master, so he growls, "If that is his destiny, so be it. I will kill him." After all, every Sith knows that a weak Apprentice is not an Apprentice worth having.

"Beware of destiny," the Muun retorts. "Do not make it your convenient excuse for failure, my Lord. True destiny cannot be subverted. The Force did not surface your long-lost child without a reason. That boy will matter, mark my words. Luke Skywalker will make history for more than just the Death Star."

Vader gulps behind his mask. Because he was the one supposed to make history. Until the Force and everyone else gave up on him as the Chosen One. It's an old hurt that still stings, but he pretends otherwise. He knows he squandered his chance long ago. "Fine. Let the boy balance the Force."

"He'll never do it without you," Plagueis observes softly. Something about the way he says it makes Vader wonder what Plagueis has foreseen in the Force. Does he already know what happens? Vader himself no longer gets visions. They went away when his Force powers diminished from his injuries. That was the one bright spot amid his humiliating, life-altering defeat. Because he's always hated Force visions—for him, they were never good news.

The old Muun Sith persists, "You are the example that boy needs to see. You must be the counterpoint to Yoda and Kenobi, not Sheev."

"Luke thinks I want to lure him to the Dark Side."

"You want to lure him to a middle ground. To be both Light and Dark."

"He'll never understand that. You're one or the other, not both, in the Jedi mindset." Each orientation—Light or Dark—is presumed to preclude the other. That's why by definition, a Jedi cannot be grey or whatever it means to be in the middle. And neither can a Sith, for that matter. "He'll never understand," beleaguered Vader complains, "and I doubt I can demonstrate being both Light and Dark to convince him."

"Sure, you can."

Discouraged, Vader shakes his head and finds himself confessing his most shameful secret. "I'll never balance the Force."

"You will."

But again, Vader shakes his head. "It's too late for me." That dream died, along with so many others, on the banks of a lava river.

Darth Plagueis frowns and his gargoyle visage becomes ever more hideous. He looks especially old now as he slowly muses. "If balancing the Force were as easy as conceiving of the idea of balance, then someone would have done it long ago. Revan got the closest, but even he ultimately reverted to the Light. Time and again, when a Jedi or a Sith breaks free of their orthodoxy, they can't quite do it. Either they get hunted by their former brethren or they return back to their old ways. In Revan's case, it was both." The towering Muun shakes his head and laments, "It seems it is hard to resist the pull to extremes."

"Sidious has become extreme," Vader gripes.

"That is my doing. I made him the old school Sith he is. Sheev was a means to an end for me once I knew you were around. He was my tool to collapse the Republic and to kill the Jedi. I stoked his lust for power and revenge, and turned him loose to pave the way for your ascendancy. His role was to do my dirty work."

Vader can only imagine how his Master would have reacted to being relegated to that position. No wonder Plagueis looks so wrecked.

"Sheev knew I planned to discard him. But instead of killing you as his rival, he usurped my role as Master. I mistakenly assumed he was a threat to you, and not to me. I failed to perceive his true power. So you see . . . I too have failed." The exiled Sith actually looks a bit chagrined and apologetic. "My failure had great consequences for the galaxy . . . and for our family. My son, I too have been humbled. But it was the lesson I needed to finally convince me of the error of my ways. I learned the hard way that Darkness is not the solution."

So there's no Sith like a reformed Sith? Vader is doubtful. "Then why don't you balance the Force?" he jeers.

"If I could, I would," Darth Plagueis the Wise plainly admits. "Alas, that is not my destiny." His anger appears to have dissipated in the face of Vader's undisguised discouragement. Plagueis starts in on a pep talk now. "Lord Vader, the most difficult position to be in is the middle. Far safer to retreat to one corner or another. To rally your forces and to know your diametrically opposed enemy at a glance. For to be in the middle is to get hit from both sides. To eschew bright lines and clarity in favor of nuance. To lack consistency and a creed."

Vader nods along, wondering where this is going.

"Moderation is far more difficult than extremism. Compromise can be more onerous than war. Shouting at someone you disagree with is much easier than listening to them. That's why it is easier to divide than to unite."

Is Vader supposed to be impressed by that wisdom? He's not. "Every Sith knows that."

"Yes, yes," his counterpart waves a dismissive hand. "It has been our way for many, many years. We exploit, we manipulate, we divide. And for what end? Bane wanted to topple the Republic. That's been done. Now we have to hold an Empire together. Sheev wants to do it by oppression and fear. That works, but it has limits, as Mon Mothma's Rebellion has revealed."

Vader thinks he overestimates their chances. "The Rebellion will die soon. Hoth was a major defeat. The Rebels will soon run short of equipment even if they have a steady supply of volunteers."

"Not if I keep funding them," Plagueis answers coyly.

What? What? "You are behind the Rebellion?" Vader didn't see that coming, but he probably should have. This guy clearly loves to meddle. He probably can't stand being out of the action watching Sheev rule.

"I'm the Rebellion's largest donor," Plagueis brags.

Vader is pissed. "Why? Why are you starting a civil war?" he demands.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Revenge on Sheev?"

"No, but that's an added benefit," sly Plagueis grins. Then, he piously announces, "I'm safeguarding the Light. Making sure it has a voice by funding your loyal opposition."

Riiight. Vader deploys maximum sarcasm. "Forgive my skepticism." This guy is just doing what he did a generation ago orchestrating the chaos of the Clone Wars. The entire galaxy suffered for it. Not that it matters to Darth Plagueis, he suspects.

But the old guy is back waxing eloquent about metaphysics again. "Lord Vader, we Sith were wrong. Peace is not a lie. Peace is just very, very hard. But the Jedi were wrong too. Peace is not the absence of conflict. You don't achieve peace by the triumph of the Light. All you have done is prepare for the next cycle of war when Darkness rises anew. For the Shadow Force is eternal, like its flipside the Light. Neither side exists without the other. And therefore, the only way to destroy Darkness is to destroy all life itself. Mutual assured destruction is the logical end to the Jedi-Sith vendetta."

He's right. Vader refuses to admit it though.

"What our galaxy needs now, what the Empire requires to prosper, is a little more Light." Plagueis flashes a devious smile as he breezily explains, "So, I throw a few credits over to Senator Mothma to make things interesting."

"She's your puppet?"

"Oh, far from it," he disavows. "I give my money anonymously with no strings attached."

"Again, forgive my skepticism," Vader drawls.

That remark earns him another lecture. "Lord Vader, beware the tendency for Force users to ignore the impact of the common man. The cosmic Force doesn't just work its wiles through people like us. The laypeople matter in the aggregate, and their numbers far surpass ours. Do not discount the ebb and flow of popular opinion in the galaxy at large."

"Especially when it's funded by a Sith?" Vader asks pointedly.

Plagueis actually chuckles. "That just makes it extra effective," he assures. "Now, then, it is clear that you are not the best messenger for young Luke, Lord Vader. We must plot a new strategy. We must approach him differently."

We? We? There is no 'we' in this. "Stay away from him!" Vader growls with a vehemence that surprises even himself. So much for that crack about killing Luke if it is his destiny. Vader just showed his true colors.

For his part, Plagueis looks very pleased by his quick reaction. He hastens to assure him, "I will remain in the background for now. In my place, I have sent a new emissary to meet him."

Uh oh. "Who?"

"Astral."

"Astral? You sent Astral?" Vader booms. He's horrified.

"She was a volunteer."

Of course, she was. But that was Plagueis' cue to say 'no' to her. Astral is not cut out for this sort of thing. She'll get herself in all sorts of trouble. Serious, deadly trouble. Plus, the last thing the dysfunctional Skywalker family needs is young Luke killing his stepmother. "Once she tells him who she is, she's going to end up in a Rebel prison!" Vader warns. "Or worse!"

"We discussed the risks."

Vader snaps back, "You didn't discuss them with me." Astral didn't discuss them with him either. Probably because she knew he would forbid her involvement.

For his part, Plagueis is largely unconcerned. "If she is captured, you can play the hero and rescue her. You're good at that sort of thing."

"I forbid this!" Vader bellows. Now, the tables are turned and he's the outraged, angry Sith in the room who's venting.

"It's too late. She's already on Tatooine."

Tatooine. Of course, Tatooine. Vader figured Luke would head there to rescue his smuggler friend. But Astral is already there? Vader gulps. That's in the Outer Rim. It's far too late to intercept her now. But when he catches up with his wife, they are going to have a discussion. She doesn't get to pull a stunt like this. She's taking a foolish risk with little chance of success.

"What could Astral say to Luke that could help matters? She's a laywoman," Vader dismisses her role.

"She couldn't possibly make things any worse than you did," Plagueis counters coolly. Vader now involuntarily glances down at his son's gory, severed hand. Plagueis may have a point there, but Vader refuses to admit it.

"Her lack of Force will be an advantage. She's not a threat to anyone. That could allow the young man to lower his guard. Let her charm the boy."

"That will never happen," Vader harrumphs.

Again, Plagueis skewers him with the truth. "She charmed you, didn't she? You're not exactly warm and fuzzy. Lord Vader, there are very effective skills that do not require the Force. You might do well to learn some of them."

"If she dies, I will hold you responsible!" Vader threatens. He means it, too.

"Stand down. She will be fine." And now again, Plagueis can't resist the urge to make this a teachable moment. Here again, comes a lecture. "There was a time when the Sith operated in the shadows of ordinary public life. When Sheev and I couldn't simply call in an air strike to deal with a problem. We had to manipulate and to persuade, to bend people to our will with more than mere violence. That experience taught skills you are sorely lacking, my son."

Whatever. He's no lawyer and the galaxy is way past the glory days of Darth Plagueis marching around setting dubious monetary policy and devaluing currencies as the Banking Clan Chairman while his Apprentice bought and sold the Old Republic Senate. Times change and the Sith change with them. And if Vader has his way, someday there will be no more covert Sith machinations going forward.

That said, he really wishes Astral hadn't been dragged into this mess. "Do you really think she can help?" he wonders aloud, his skepticism fully evident.

"Do not underestimate her. She's your best advocate."

"She doesn't know the first thing about how to handle this sort of situation—"

"Maybe not, but she knows you. She loves you. She's probably your only character witness at this point," Plagueis observes. "She knows firsthand what young Skywalker needs to hear—that his father is a man to admire and to emulate."

That assessment shuts Vader up. Because is he a man to be proud of? He's not so sure. He's mostly failed at everything he's ever done. He was a lousy Jedi turned lousy Sith. A man broken and humbled, with barely half his old Force power. He never ruled the galaxy and he never will. And these days, he can't even manage to keep it from falling into civil war again thanks to the deep pockets of this crafty Muun. He keeps going nonetheless, hoping he still has a purpose. That one day, someday, he will live up to his destiny.

But for now, Vader is rattled, very rattled. Upset by his son's severed limb at his feet and chagrined by his well-meaning wife's foolish adventure to Tatooine. How many people he cares about will have to pay for his fuck ups, Vader wonders. He's supposed to protect his family, but he seems only to fail them. From his mother, to Padme, to Luke, and now Astral. The bitter truth rattles him deeply. And so, Vader does what he always does when he is anxious-he lashes out.

"If she dies, you will suffer!" Vader threatens again.

Right now, even diminished as he is, Vader feels angry enough to best the legendary Darth Plagueis. For if anger is power, then he is no doubt supreme. For decades, he has wrestled with a fury that has no lasting relief. He vents it in petty vindictiveness, convenient warfare, and casual cruelty from time to time to take the edge off. But at this moment, no Sith that ever lived can rival the white-hot rage of Darth Vader. He is angry at his son for his rejection, angry at his wife for her unwelcome intervention, and angry at his so-called father for his Rebel treachery. But most of all, he is angry at himself. And therein lies the true despair of Darth Vader—his buried regrets, his secret shame, and his pervasive self-loathing.

For as long as he can remember, something has been broken in him. Padme couldn't fix it, the Jedi couldn't fix it, the Dark Side couldn't fix it, and he knows Astral won't be able to fix it either. But he perseveres like he always does. He's no quitter. Plus, he knows that when things are Darkest signals the coming of the Light. That gives him hope. Bespin may have been an unmitigated disaster, but Vader now senses the long-awaited course correction in the Force. The Light is rising and that can mean only one thing: Darth Sidious is heading for a fall. Hopefully, when it all transpires, he, Astral, and Luke will still be standing. And this supposedly immortal Muun? Well, Vader would be fine if he's a casualty.

But does old Plagueis see his torment? He must, for he admonishes again, "It will be fine. She will be fine."

"She better be," Vader growls back.