Admiral Firmus Piett sidled nervously into the elaborate suite where Prince Rin Nullay was staying while the whole uranium disaster was being sorted out. The man, now dressed in fluorescent green, glanced briefly at the Imperial officer before turning his attention on the auburn haired woman who was seated nearby on a krayt dragon leather chair. Between them both, with his back to Piett, was a tall humanoid with a holocam fixed on prince and reporter.
"Myrna, I am heartbroken," the prince said, placing a shaking hand on his own breast. "Iryna was the very best model and to have her eliminated from the Galaxy's Next Supermodel show — I do not think I will sleep tonight. I may not eat. I am devastated, Myrna, absolutely devastated."
"Why do you think that Iryna did not prevail over the other top contenders like Ichal and Cranola?" Myrna inquired with a dramatic flutter of her eyelashes.
"Well, I suspect it had to do with pro humanoid sentiment," Prince Nullay replied with a sad twist of the lips. "The reality is that Iryna has extra appendages and thus was able to wear Ransome Quiltraz's private selection with special flair! I am truly grieved and horrified at the decision of the judges."
"Well, thank you, Prince Nullay, for your insightful remarks," Myrna replied soulfully.
The holobeing turned off his cam and turned to face Piett, revealing a long snout and a wicked set of teeth through which peeped a large wad of gum.
"That's a wrap, Snell," Mryna said, rising to her feet and then bowing toward her prince, "Thank you so much for your time, your Highness."
"Any time," Nullay replied briskly. "Anything for my favorite reporter."
The lady smiled and blushed, and she and her holocam being left the room, leaving Piett behind.
"Er, does, um, Lord Vader require my presence?" the Prince asked with a reasonable degree of anxiety.
Well, not really reasonable. Normal people would be shaking in their boots when Vader was within one hundred meters of them, not watching supermodel shows, but Nullay did not really know Lord Vader.
"He is busy," Piett said briefly. "I wish to speak to you about your brother."
"My brother?" The prince inquired in a puzzled tone. "What about my brother?"
"Prince Kile Nullay is your only brother, correct?"
"Yes."
"And he holds the mineral rights to the uranium stores on Dachat's moon, correct?"
"Er, I, um, suppose, yes, that is right?"
"He is also your heir to the throne?"
"Yes, erm, well, I suppose it is true — marriage just seems so tedious, you know? I am only 45 years of age. Plenty of time to find a wife!"
Piett blinked in astonishment at this, but forged on determinedly, "So if you were to die today, or were deposed due to supposed incompetence, your brother would inherit the throne?"
The prince's mouth dropped open incredulously, "Surely you are not ... are you suggesting that my brother is behind this attempt to destroy the uranium stores?"
Piett sat down and leaned forward, getting very much into the prince's personal space, "That is exactly what I am suggesting, your Highness. I have seen the reports myself; Dachat's moon has several mining facilities and all of them have been stockpiling uranium, exactly as would be expected if your brother were behind this attempt to destroy the uranium stores here on Dachat. If he had succeeded, you would have become an instant pariah among your people for allowing such a thing, and he would have a tremendous amount of wealth at his fingertips due to the black market increase in the price of uranium."
"That is quite impossible, Admiral," the prince replied, and for the first time he sounded not hysterical, not dramatic, but merely sad.
"Why?"
Prince Dachat bit his lip, "My brother is a spice addict, Admiral Piett. His mind has been largely destroyed by spice, I am afraid. We have tried interventions but nothing has worked. No, I assure you, even if Kile turned against me, he is entirely incapable of plotting so elaborately."
Piett sat back, frowning. This was unexpected.
"You are certain ... well, of course you are," he finished. "If your brother should die, who is his heir?"
"His son, but my nephew is only 2 years old."
"And who is your sister-in-law?"
The prince frowned, "She is a daughter of one of the leading families of nearby Ord Minit. Not one of my favorite people, as a matter of fact. Annoying and bossy."
"Is she a spice addict?"
"No."
"Would she have guardianship over your nephew?"
Prince Nullay's eyes widened in horror, "Yes."
/
"You know that I can still talk to you," Luke Skywalker informed his father through their mental bond.
"I am aware," Vader said coldly as he tightened the gag on his son's mouth and checked the manacles chaining the boy's hands to each side of the bed. "However, I require you to be physically silent while the Emperor speaks to me, and I do not trust you to be quiet."
"Bet I can get the gag out with the Force," the youth replied insolently.
"Luke, do you want me to knock you out?" his father demanded harshly.
Luke blinked at the cyborg leaning over him and shook his head.
"Then stay here and be silent," the cyborg Sith ordered, stalking out of the bedroom and into the main living area of the suite. A moment later, after taking two calming breaths, he sent the requisite signal to his Master and prepared to wait.
He knew, from painful experience, that the wait might be five minutes or five days. Palpatine adored lording it over his underlings, and especially Vader. He enjoyed insisting on Vader's attention at the most inconvenient times, and he relished making him wait while the Emperor finished his moonglow or glass of Alderaanian wine.
In this case, the wait was remarkably short. Thirty seconds after he signaled, his master answered.
On second thought, Vader would have preferred longer.
The hologram was not as big as usual; on the Executor, Vader's reception chamber allowed for a gigantic hologram of the Emperor; here, there was only one that provides a full height hologram of the man. It mattered not. Size mattered not, where Emperor Sheev Palpatine was concerned.
Vader dropped to his knees and bowed his head.
"There is a great disturbance in the Force," the Emperor said coldly.
Palpatine was using exactly the words he used — was it only a year ago, when Death Squadron pursued the Millennium Falcon into the asteroid field and Palpatine confirmed what Vader had already known for years, that the destroyer of the Death Star was the son of Anakin Skywalker?
"I have felt it," Vader replied, with exactly the same intonation as he had used a year ago.
"You saw the announcement by the Rebel princess?" his master inquired in a silky tone.
"I have."
"And what do you think, my friend?"
Vader lifted his great helmet to stare into the Emperor's wrinkled face, "I believe that Organa speaks the truth, that she is Skywalker's twin."
"She looks very much like Anakin Skywalker's wife," Palpatine observed.
In spite of himself, Vader flinched at this, and knew that his master saw the flinch, and enjoyed it. As much as he tried to pretend that Anakin Skywalker was long dead, he could never think of … of her, without at least a ripple of emotion.
"She does," he agreed, his tone monotonous.
"You must find her, Lord Vader. You must find her and bring her to me. It is a great pity that she has twice been in Imperial custody and yet you did not sense the truth about her antecedents."
The junior Sith shook his head slowly, "I am not certain that she is a Force Sensitive, my Master. She has great passion and determination and intelligence, but I did not sense that the Force was strong in her."
The robed figure gazed at his apprentice for a long minute before replying, "It seems unlikely that a child of Anakin Skywalker would be Force blind, but it is a possibility. In any case, her capture will make it far easier to capture Skywalker."
"Yes, my master," Vader replied. "It will be done."
With a flicker, the hologram disappeared and Vader sighed softly. Based on his master's last words, it seemed that Palpatine did not know that his son was in custody. But what Palpatine said often had no basis in truth; it was entirely likely that the Emperor had discovered Luke was in custody, though Vader had done his best to prevent such news leaking out.
He straightened his body, wincing slightly at the pain where cyborg joints met living flesh, and walked over to open the door into the bedroom.
Luke was asleep, his hands still chained to the bed, his mouth still covered with the gag. In the repose of rest, he looked younger.
Vader sat down on the chair next to his boy and ruminated. He had two children, both intelligent and vibrant, both stubborn as an eopie.
Pad ...
Skywalker's wife was gone, but her children remained.
How could he turn his children over to the Emperor? Palpatine was no fool – he would not permit both of his children to live; even if Leia Organa was Force Blind, she would have tremendous power in Luke's life, and Palpatine would not permit such a thing.
But did Vader have a choice? He had to obey his Master. The Dark Side required it.
He did not know what to do.
Author Note: And then just like that, the chapter got more serious! Sorry for slow updates and thanks for reading and following and reviewing!