"I assure you, your Excellency, the battle station will be operational on the revised schedule."

Vader stands in Sheev's throne room watching Moff Jerjerrod conclude his presentation on the Death Star. Like everything the Moff does, it includes a lot of overly optimistic assessments and risky promises. The man is eager to please his Emperor. But while his forecasts are unachievable, the Moff's rose-colored glasses are helpful. All this relentless positivity allows Vader to play the role of critic. Again and again, he points out the risks to the situation. That's good CYA for all the trouble he has been faithfully causing behind the scenes since he learned of the project. And since he plans to have the Rebels blow up this new technological terror, Vader needs to be especially careful to place blame on others. Otherwise, he will end up disabled by the wrath of Sheev's lightning once again . . . or worse.

That means Vader is keen to point out that the station is especially vulnerable now that the reactor core is exposed. There's no need for a weak exhaust port flaw. No one even needs to steal the plans. For once the shield is down, the Rebels can simply fly right into the superstructure for an easy direct hit. Vader's solution is to shore up the defenses projected from the nearby moon. But that will take time, divert resources, and cause further delays. Sheev nixes the suggestion. It's one of several ideas to bolster security that his Master shoots down to speed things up. And that is exactly how Vader wants the meeting to proceed. Overconfidence has long been Sheev's weakness, and it is on full display today.

It's pretty cringeworthy how much Sheev pants to have his new weapon finished. It's like his Master can't wait to kill another planet. Evidently, Sheev also plans on spending a fair amount of time cruising around the galaxy in his new toy. He and Jerjerrod now waste far too much time going over the design specifics of the new throne room that is a very late addition to the blueprints. For his part, Vader just looks on in silence.

So Darth Sidious wants to hang out on his poorly defended, vulnerable, and half-built super weapon?

Excellent, Vader thinks to himself.

Finally, the Moff gets dismissed. That can only mean one thing. It's time to talk about Luke Skywalker. Vader does his best to muster his mental defenses. Sheev will be looking for any hint of disloyalty in this most delicate situation.

"Have you succeeded in making contact with your Rebel son through the Force?" Sheev wants to know. What he's really asking is 'have you and your kid been plotting behind my back?' Because Sheev assumes he would be conducting those negotiations himself. It probably hasn't occurred to his Master that Astral would make the perfect trustworthy go-between for treason.

Vader gives nothing away. He answers the question he is asked. "No, my Master."

"Are you trying sufficiently hard, Lord Vader?"

"Yes, my Master." In fact, he's tried many times. But he has yet to recreate the brief mental connection he and Luke achieved at Bespin.

Sheev grunts and shoots him a look of contempt. "You are too damaged, I assume?"

Vader fears that is the case, but he's too proud to fully admit it. Plus, there's always the possibility that Luke is intentionally shutting him out. "Perhaps, my Master."

"It is no matter. We shall let him stew. In time, we will draw him out again."

"Another trap?" Vader pretends to be enthusiastic about turning Luke to the Dark Side.

"Yes. One he cannot resist," Sheev answers without elaborating. "But first, we must get the new weapon operational. That is your highest priority, Lord Vader. Your search for young Skywalker can wait."

Whew. Vader bows his head in a show of deference. "As you wish." Then, he exits the throne room as fast as possible. Lest his thoughts betray him and his true intentions for his Rebel son become clear. Sheev's obsession with his super weapon has just given Vader the time he needs to stalk his wayward kid and hopefully coax him to his side. That new throne room for the Death Star raises all sorts of intriguing possibilities as well.

Now that his interview with Sheev is done, Vader's day is done. Time to return to his orbiting star destroyer. But first, he detours to collect Astral. He has been looking forward to their reunion all day. He can't wait to see his wife and to hear the news from her second mission to Tatooine. Vader heads for the Palace landing pad at an especially fast clip. There a transport awaits to take him to her nearby apartment and then to the Executor.

Astral knows he's coming. She's waiting for him on the terrace, standing there ready to go with her purse in her hands looking lovely in a blue cape thrown over one of her work dresses. As the transport hovers above and its ramp deploys, Vader walks down to offer her his hand.

She's smiling, her face lit from within, as she reaches to accept his help. Soon she's tucked up under his arm, snug beneath his cape whipped by the night breeze, as together they step up into the transport. Vader turns his head to order the pilot to depart for his flagship as Astral lingers close.

The proximity lasts until she realizes they have an audience. "Oh!" Astral yelps and leaps three feet away as she spies the other occupant of the shuttle.

Vader tersely performs the introductions. "That's Moff Jerjerrod." As a show of his focus on teamwork to complete the Death Star, Vader is ferrying the Moff back to Endor so together they can inspect the construction progress in person.

"Hello." His wife nervously reaches up to smooth her hair. "I'm Astral Sidhu," she offers awkwardly.

Her embarrassment makes Vader smile behind the mask. Astral is red faced like they have been caught in bed instead of just arm and arm. Who cares? If Sheev can catch them in an embrace on the Palace landing pad, then this guy can see him holding hands with his own wife. The way Astral is acting suggests something illicit and that's all wrong. His first marriage may have been against the rules, but this one is not. And the Moff here is hardly a Rebel who might seek to harm Astral in order to strike at him.

But it turns out that Jerjerrod is about as happy to see Astral as she is to see him. He hauls himself from his seat to stand in respect, but his tone is less than enthusiastic. "I remember you. You're the woman who hates the Death Star."

Astral lifts her chin. Vader knows that gesture. She's about to get frosty.

"Indeed," she responds in her best rich bitch demeanor she's picked up from hanging out with all her art world friends. Astral sniffs, "I hate that weapon."

Vader can't resist needling the Moff. "She hates you too," he drawls.

"No, I don't," Astral grumbles. "I hate what he does, not who he is."

"No one who says that ever means it," Vader observes. He's a bit gleeful as he tells Jerjerrod, "She definitely hates you." Then, Vader settles into a seat and grabs for his datapad to finish sending a message.

He's enjoying how flummoxed the Moff is by Astral's sudden appearance. Military guys never know what to do when there isn't a clear chain of command. Vader told his tagalong that they were stopping to pick up an informant on the way to his flagship. And that's technically true. Vader is dying to hear about Astral's latest chat with his Rebel son. But she's no ordinary Intel provider as Jerjerrod has no doubt surmised. It means he can't decide how to treat her.

"Hate the sin, not the sinner? Is that it?" the affronted Moff bristles in his understated way.

Astral states it more succinctly, "Mostly, I hate the Death Star. I hate any weapon used to slaughter innocent civilians. Most especially when our Emperor lies to the galaxy about it." Her delivery is quiet but her words are bold. It's very her.

Now, the Moff has his dander up. Jerjerrod is a big fan of Sheev's pet project he feels certain will be his career making command. And, like every senior officer, he loves to make a grand show of his absolute allegiance. He eyes Astral with cool disdain. "Not a prisoner tonight? Or shall we say, not yet? Careful because statements like that might get you arrested, Ms. Sidhu."

Was that a threat? That had better not be a threat. Vader looks up from his datapad and inserts himself again. "Hardly. She's my lady." i.e., back off, Moff.

Jerjerrod misunderstands but he doesn't back down. "Your pardon, milady. Let me rephrase that. Statements like that might get you arrested, Lady Sidhu."

"No, she's actually my lady," amused Vader clarifies. "She's my wife. That's Lady Vader who you are suggesting we arrest."

That puts the snippy Moff in his place. He looks shocked, then immediately contrite. "Oh. Yes, of course. My mistake. Pleasure to meet you, Lady Vader," he reflexively attempts to suck up.

It's a little late. Astral raises an eyebrow and says nothing. Atta girl, Vader thinks. His wife doesn't get loud when she gets mad, she tends to get more composed. And right now, she looks terrifyingly self-possessed. Watching her now, he sees Astral is definitely getting the hang of this Lady Vader gig.

Jerjerrod grovels some more. It's sort of fun to watch. "Er . . . forgive my comment about getting arrested . . . That was very inappropriate of me."

"It was," Vader chimes in just to watch him squirm some more. Vader tends to cultivate a sense of mystery and the implicit power it projects. That means when little bits and pieces of his private self dribble out—like tonight when he reveals Astral as his wife—people invariably get nervous. Truthfully, Vader rather enjoys these moments. It's why every now and then, he summons a senior officer to his private quarters to let them see him from behind without his mask. There is a childish pleasure in shocking people. It's what passes for diversion in his life.

"Oh, I've been arrested," Astral announces blithely. "Three times, so far. But who's counting?"

Vader looks up from his datapad to disagree. "No. Twice. Two times."

"Three times," she corrects.

"Two times. The restaurant and the opera."

Astral gets frosty with him now too. "Are you forgetting the six hours I spent in detention on your ship?"

Whoops. He forgot about that. But he waives it away. "That doesn't count. It wasn't me. It only counts if I arrest you," Vader contends as Jerjerrod blinks at his reasoning.

"I'm still mad about the opera," Astral informs him softly.

"No, you're not."

"Am too."

Is she pouting? Astral isn't the pouting type. "Get over it. And get over here." He pats the empty seat beside him. "Take a seat. That's an order."

Astral dutifully complies.

"Good," he approves. "No need to arrest you a third time."

"Fourth time," she corrects him.

Jerjerrod still looks flustered. Vader ignores him. Instead he types 'I missed you' on his datapad and hands it to Astral.

She types back. 'Same here but three's a crowd.'

To which he responds, 'I have to tolerate him. But just you wait until I get you in my egg.'

He sees her stifle a smile. 'Does this count as sexting?'

'We're too old for that' he writes back.

'Speak for yourself, old man' is her reply. She adds a few silly juvenile eggplant emojis for good measure. And now, Astral asks aloud, "Did you see the boss?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He's his usual self. The Moff here got to tell him that the Death Star is making progress . . . or it was until Sheev started making modifications."

"More delays?" Her voice has an altogether too hopeful note.

He quells it. "Regrettably so." Then, Vader types again on the datapad for her to see 'Stop trashing the Death Star. It's about to become your new favorite thing.'

She shoots him a disbelieving look and grabs for the datapad to respond. 'Impossible.'

'The Force is with us' he writes before he deletes the whole conversation.

Today's news is just what he needs. For ever since Bespin, Vader has been mulling over his options. Hiding Luke from Sheev doesn't seem feasible, mostly due to the dynamics of the situation. But there's also the kid's considerable Force imprint. It's undeniable and likely growing, plus Sheev already knows to look for Luke. Even if Vader could hide the boy, it would be a temporary solution at best. The only long-term fix to keep Luke safe is to kill Sheev and remove the threat. That outcome seemed a long shot until today. But suddenly, unexpectedly, and very fortuitously, ridding the universe of Darth Sidious feels a lot more doable. And since there's no such thing as luck, it must be the Force at work.

Minutes later, their transport docks at the Executor and they ditch Moff Jerjerrod. But only once he and Astral are alone in his medical pod do they speak of the issue they both want to address.

"I have good news for you," Astral tells him as she helps to remove his mask.

There. That's better. He can look on her with his own eyes. Vader smiles. "I have good news for you too. But you first." He wants to know how things went with Luke. Most specifically, how he took the Death Star news.

Astral starts talking him through their conversation. "It started tense, but I think the Death Star information will go a long way towards building trust. Already, Luke trusted me more because he agreed to come back to the ship to meet Lord Plagueis."

"He whaaaat?" Vader squints at his wife. Did he hear that right?

He did. "Snoke gave him the big pitch about the Force. I can't do that. You know I can't do that."

"I'm supposed to do that," Vader huffs.

"You know you can't do that now," she replies gently. As usual, Astral is very careful about how she alludes to his failure at Bespin.

"So instead you brought him to Plagueis?"

This is terrible news. Vader doesn't trust that guy farther than he can throw him with a Force push. The last thing he needs now is that creepy Muun manipulating his estranged kid to plot against him. Because that's just the sort of thing a Sith Master would do. Plagueis could take on Luke as Apprentice and then together they could challenge him and Sheev. They'd win too. Because Vader's not dying for Sheev and he's not killing his own kid. Fuck, why the Hell did she do this? She's supposed to be on Team Vader.

He fixes her with a hard look of reproach but Astral is unrepentant. "It was the next step. Luke needed to meet the rest of the family."

"I thought you said this was good news," Vader scowls. Again, he shoots her a dirty look. "Well, how did it go?

"It got off to a bad start but we recovered."

"Yeah? Bad start how?"

"There was Force lightning and Luke lit his sword."

"Did the Muun hurt him?" Vader hisses, his yellow eyes flashing.

"No!" she immediately reassures. "No one got hurt. It was a lot of posturing with me in the middle."

"Did you get hurt?"

"No."

"No harm, no foul?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"It was a lot of talk about the Jedi and the Force. About how it was time for the Jedi to end and how Darth Plagueis wants you to balance the Force."

"The Chosen One?" he sighs. Damn how he hates that prophecy. It makes him feel like the ultimate failure.

"You're also the Sith version of the Chosen One, I learned."

Vader makes a face. "The Sith'ari . . . the Sith who destroys the Sith to make them stronger." And if that fairytale is true too, then Vader has let down both the Jedi and the Sith. He's a failure for the Light Side and for the Dark Side. He's double the failure. Great . . . just great . . .

"Lord Plagueis was very convincing that you're going to save us all. He really believes it. It wasn't all talk."

Astral looks so hopeful, but Vader shakes his head. "It's too late for me." He squandered his chance long ago. Now he's a broken-down wreck of a man with too little Force to save the galaxy. Damn, he hates thinking about this. He quickly changes the topic. "What did Luke say?"

"Not much. This was the first he had heard of any of it. He was suspicious and confused. He kept saying he wouldn't join you or join the Dark Side. He is very skeptical of Lord Plagueis' motives to kill Sheev."

"So am I," Vader grouses. Then, he can't help but ask, "Did you talk about me?"

"Not really. Snoke just said Bespin wasn't your best moment. He said you were a man of deeds, not of words. You know," she cocks her head at him thoughtfully, "I think Snoke actually likes you."

Vader frowns. "Don't call him that. It's a stupid name." It's a name for a pet, not for a Sith Lord. "Tell me more," he urges. "How is my son?"

"Honestly? He's pretty lost. Luke looked very betrayed when Snoke told him he has a twin sister."

That was a bold move and one that makes Vader strongly suspect that Snoke knows where his daughter is. "So Luke didn't already know?"

"No. He was shocked. Angrier than ever then," Astral judges.

"How did it end?"

"Darth Plagueis cut the meeting short. He told Luke to go back to his Jedi Master to ask for their side of the story. To ask for information about his sister. But," Astral considers, "Luke didn't seem too keen to do that. I think he's afraid to tell that Yoda guy he's been meeting with our side. And maybe," she muses, "he's worried that the Jedi will lie to him again. My Lord," she sighs, "I don't think Luke knows who to trust and that's the problem. He certainly doesn't know what he wants . . . "

"So Plagueis drove a wedge between Luke and Yoda?"

Astral nods. "Snoke left him wanting more, for certain. By the time we jumped to hyperspace, Luke had buzzed on the comlink Snoke gave him."

"He did?" This is good news. "And?"

"We're meeting again. This time on Naboo. Darth Plagueis wants you to be there this time."

"Good." Because there's no way Vader is letting that guy work over his son again without him being in attendance. It's too risky. The setup is perfect for Plagueis to insert himself as ally since, thanks to Bespin, Vader has cast himself in the enemy role.

"Luke doesn't know what he wants," Astral repeats softly. It's clear she feels very sorry for his boy. "He seemed very disillusioned at the end."

"That's good," Vader decides. "It means he might be open to changing his mind about a few things."

"Like you," she suggests as she reaches for his hand. She gives it a little squeeze. "What's your news? Give me your good news."

"Sheev wants the Death Star reactor core outfitted with a throne room. So he can ride around in his super weapon feeling like a badass Sith as he watches himself destroy planets." No doubt the whole time he'll be jerking off with a chorus of acolytes singing hymns to Darkness at his side, Vader figures. Truly, his Master's ghoulish antics are ridiculous. Vader finds it hard to believe that the old Sith Empire could ever have been so theatrical as Sheev's version of those ancient rituals.

Astral frowns. "Why is this good news?"

"Because it will get him out of Coruscant. He never leaves his Palace. Never. And if he's on the Death Star—"

Astral's eyes light up as she finishes his sentence, "-then the Rebels can kill him when they blow it up."

"Precisely." That's not how it's usually done. You're supposed to kill your Sith Master man-to-man in single combat. Only the Apprentice who is strong enough to supplant his mentor will pass the test to become the Master himself. And if you try and fail? Well, you die for the attempt. For in the tradition of Darkness, you either rise or die trying.

In over twenty years, Vader has never made an attempt against Sheev. That's not for lack of ambition. It's because he's never devised a plot good enough to merit the risk. But this chance? Well, it has fallen into his lap and it feels too good to pass up. It also has the added bonus of taking out the second Death Star. If all goes well, Vader could emerge as the leader of the Empire who can broker a deal with his secret son and the other Rebel leaders. Together, he and Luke could bring peace, justice, freedom, and security to the galaxy. They could even bring back a Senate. Padme would like that, he thinks. And Plagueis? Well, he'll find a way to deal with that Muun. He may have to tolerate him in some role going forward if the guy truly is immortal. But if not, then maybe he and Luke can find a way to kill him.

Beside Vader, Astral's eyes are wide with possibilities. "Oh, my Lord, do you think it could work?" she breathes out in excitement.

Vader feels the same way, but he feels obliged to temper her expectations. "A lot of things would have to go right in order to pull it off." They'd have to plan the Rebel attack once Sheev was at the station, which probably means they couldn't try it until after the Death Star is operational. But maybe there would be a way to sabotage not only the shield generator but also the weapon itself to make it easier for the Rebels to succeed. Then his son could jump in an X-wing and repeat his feat from Yavin. Or maybe, Vader muses, he could hop in a TIE and do it himself. That could be fun. Luke's not the only good pilot in the family.

"But it might work, right?" Astral is standing before him, looking down with hope shining in her eyes. "If anyone could pull it off, you can," she urges with complete confidence. "Darth Plagueis says you are an excellent tactician."

He said that? Well, maybe it's true. Vader knows he has long dared big things. He has never been a man for incremental change and measured risks. He makes bold moves. That's part of why he has felt so frustrated spending the last twenty years in a holding pattern waiting for this opportunity. It's also why he is giddy inside about its possibilities.

Astral leans to kiss his forehead. "You will make an excellent Emperor, my Lord," she whispers.

"Come over here you," he growls as he grabs for her. His long-suffering ego loves it when she cheerleads for him. She's one lone voice among a chorus of millions of haters, but it helps.

Astra doesn't resist the gloved hands that now rake her figure. She just coyly ducks her chin in mock subservience as she lowers her eyes and answers, "Yes, Master."

He smirks. Well, it starts as a smirk but it spreads into a grin.

Seeing she has an appreciative audience, Astral teases, "What is thy bidding, my Master?" as she sinks to her knees before him. Like this is his throne room and not his egg cluttered with datafiles and discarded towels and gloves strewn on the floor.

"Your Excellency," he corrects. "Not Master." She's no Sith. Astral is far too Light for that. And besides, "My Empress won't kneel to me," he promises.

"As you wish," she grins back cheekily. But she doesn't get up. Her hands are resting on his pants and they creep up. "What does an Empress do?"

"She keeps the Emperor happy," he answers as he reaches for his belt. Because is she thinking what he's thinking? "Please me." He means it as a request, but it comes out like an order so he tries again. "Please please me."

Now, it's her turn to smirk. "Yes, your Excellency." Astral's hands replace his to undo his clothing. And yes, that just the way he was hoping to be pleased. Vader groans with pleasure as he slumps in his seat to give her more access. His gloved hands now reach to guide her head forward into his lap. Oh Force, her mouth feels incredible. He will never tire of this feeling. This is just what he needs after a stressful day that culminated with an interview with Sheev.

Later, she lolls naked in bed in his arms in the afterglow. Now completely relaxed, he strokes her back and asks, "Are you hungry? Do you want dinner?" They went straight to bed this time. Like the newlyweds they still are.

"I'm easy. Whatever you think is fine," she murmurs into his chest.

Astral shifts to snuggle deeper into him. She feels so warm and soft. By now, they are completely comfortable around each other. He's not self-conscious about his scars or his prosthetics. And here in his medical capsule, he breathes without a mask. This is his little bastion of normalcy. A place where he feels almost like a regular man. Where he can be himself with the woman he loves.

Astral is so good for him, Vader knows. She gives him the love he craves. And now that they are married, he has the emotional security he has long needed. For unlike his mother and Padme, Astral isn't going anywhere. She's here to stay. Whatever happens going forward, he's confident that Astral will never leave him. She has no reason to leave him since she's already seen him at his worst. She knows he kills and he plots. She's no stranger to his moods. Astral knows the truth of him—the good parts and the bad ones—and that means there is nothing hidden that will shock or horrify her if revealed.

But prosaic matters now intrude. Astral's stomach growls. Loudly.

She giggles.

"Tell me what you want," he prods. "I'll order something. I'm hungry too."

"Forget food. I want this. I love this."

He feels the same way. They get so little time together. But he's still hungry. "Come on, let's eat. You'll need your strength for round two," he rasps suggestively.

"Okay. We can order something." She half sits up now and asks, "Do you think it could work? Because I can't stop thinking about it . . . "

Her comment is a complete non sequitur and yet it needs no explanation. For once again, their pillow talk is treason. "I can't stop thinking about it either," he confesses. Ever since he left the throne room, his mind has been preoccupied with the possibility of killing Sheev. Of freeing himself and the galaxy from the whims of that petty little despot. Of ending the oppression of the Sith like he once silenced the never-ending sanctimony of the Jedi.

He's spent decades waiting for this opportunity. Finally, the time has come. With Astral and Luke involved, he has more skin in the game than ever, but he also has more potential upside. For if all goes well, Vader could end up ruling the galaxy with the support of a family. Sure, it looks different than he imagined originally when he first planned to subvert Sheev. But it could still be good. And for the icing on the cake, perhaps one day he and Luke will find his missing sister.

Astral is as enthusiastic as he is. "Do you think it could work? It would be amazing if it could work. . ."

"It will only work if I can get through to Luke. This will never work if he doesn't trust me." All the particulars of where to go and what to do won't matter if Luke questions them. Vader has been in battle many times, so he knows plans go awry and unforeseen issues occur. That's why you can't be too prescriptive about warfare. Get too rigid and you might lose. But still . . . taking out a Death Star is going to require some coordination, and coordination requires trust.

"It's probably easiest if a small Rebel force takes out the shield generator on Endor and I blow up the station," he decides. "They'll never suspect me in a TIE. They won't even know to mount a resistance to friendly fire."

"But you can tell Luke and his friends where to go and what to do, right?" Astral worries.

"Yes. But they have to trust me. None of this works if they don't trust me."

She nods to his wisdom. "It's more than just Luke trusting you, isn't it? It's the other Rebels trusting Luke to trust you."

"Yes, and who among them is going to trust Darth Vader?" Therein lies the problem. It's a big problem.

Astral thinks a moment. "So after we convince Luke, I guess you need to meet with Mon Mothma?"

Vader scoffs. "She won't meet with me. She'll fear it's a trap."

"You're right." Astral falls silent again before she suggests, "Maybe she would meet with Snoke since he gives her funding . . . "

Vader nixes that idea. "I don't trust Plagueis."

"Then how about me?" Astral offers.

"Mon Mothma won't meet with Lady Vader. Luke will tell her who you are."

"What if I came with a big donation?" she brainstorms.

"You're asking me to fund the Rebellion?"

"If it gets me through the door, why not?" she reasons. "Think of it as another way to earn Luke's trust. First, you give the Rebels the information they need. Now, you give them credits."

"That might help," he warms to the idea. "But Luke will have to vouch for all of this. He's the key part." Vader sighs. "He hates me . . . he hates me and I can't blame him." That business on Bespin is insurmountable, he fears.

Astral has a different take on the situation. "He fears you. I think he might fear becoming you. But he doesn't hate you. I don't think he would have come back to meet me on Tatooine if he had resolved to hate you," she theorizes.

Vader sighs again. He exhales long and hard this time. "He hates me . . ." He cut the kid's hand off. That's good reason to hate even without the context of their Jedi-Sith conflict and him killing Obi-Wan.

"We'll just have to keep trying. Don't give up on Luke yet," Astral wheedles.

"He hates me . . ."

"Anakin," Astral gets his attention with that name and she knows it. She must sense him spiraling fast into despair. It's no secret to Astral that he gets these mood swings. The emotional high of seeing a way out of his predicament is inevitably followed by the depressing reality of how hard it will be to conspire with the Rebels. But Astral is ever the dutiful cheerleader. "Anakin, don't give up hope," she gently chides. "Luke's meeting with me a third time. That's progress. Let's see where this goes."

It's something Padme would have said so Vader immediately agrees. He's long been a sucker for a determined woman. And, well, there is the name. On the rare occasions when the name Anakin Skywalker comes up, he always says it no longer has any meaning for him. That's a lie, of course. The name has lots of meaning for him, and that's the problem.

There are times when he misses his old self. When he wonders what he might have become had he left the Jedi Order for Padme. Or had he survived Order 66 and remained a Jedi. Would he be the leader of the Rebellion now? Might he have been the ace pilot who blew up the Death Star? It's doesn't take much imagination to envision scenarios in which he himself would play a version of the Luke Skywalker role. His Rebel son might be shocked to know it, but some small part of him is jealous of his kid's daring heroism. Because it's just the sort of thing Anakin Skywalker was known for long ago.

It's also got him thinking . . . could Astral's suggestion that he join Luke and his Rebel friends be feasible? Vader's cynical self deems it a ridiculous ploy. But then again . . . could it work? And what exactly would he renounce to do it? His politics are more malleable than his views on the Force are at this point. He's not about to become a Jedi again, but he'd be fine with abandoning the Sith. It's time to leave all that stuff behind. Sheev's taking the Force in the wrong direction, Vader firmly believes.

More and more, Vader feels like it's time for the galaxy and for him personally to move on. His obsessive grief and guilt for Padme kept him slavishly devoted to the past for far too long. Mostly it was because his present was barely tolerable and his future bleak. But then, his long-lost son destroyed the Death Star and Astral came into his life. Things have never been the same since.

Those shocking events brought a glimmer of Light into his gloomy Darkness, but at first he didn't know it. The promise of a better life with a better future began when he was least expecting it-amid his pain-ridden recuperation at his castle. Vader didn't go looking to fall in love, but the Force had other plans. It sent him what he didn't know he needed in Astral. And now, she has him reexamining what he wants and thinking of paths not taken. Will Astral be the catalyst for a reconciliation with Luke? Could that be the aim of the Force in all of this? If it's possible to heal the breach of Bespin to form some sort of alliance with his son, then truly Vader's hope will be renewed. And that might just help to balance the Force a bit. For as every Padawan learns, the Light is hope.

The Force works in mysterious ways, Vader knows. The Jedi tradition taught that Force users were agents of change and therefore it was their duty to serve the universal good. To accept and to obey the will of the Force and to eschew the desires of the individual. That mandate sounded good, but it fueled a deep seeded elitism that plagued the Jedi Order. For in deeming themselves the instruments of the Force, the Jedi tended to cloak their actions as the will of God, whether that was in fact the case or not. In fact, Obi-Wan would have scoffed at the idea of the Force manipulating events through a layperson like Astral. Not because he didn't acknowledge the importance of the common man acting with free will, but because Obi-Wan would have deemed Astral in particular insignificant in the larger scheme of things.

But Vader has been a plotting Sith long enough to know differently. The people and experiences who influence us are not always who we expect. And you don't have to have a fancy position or enormous wealth or special skills to matter. So when Force blind Astral tells him not to give up hope, Vader listens. Sure, she's nobody. But not to him. And that's the point.

"When do we meet Luke?" he asks.

"Next week."

Good. That gives him time to finish up with his Death Star inspection. "Does Plagueis have to be there?" he whines a little. He's still miffed at the Muun's involvement.

"Yes." Astral's answer is firm. So firm that it makes Vader wonder if her self-appointed mission to reconcile father and son extends to more than one generation.