Chapter 9: Movent de Resonat

—PART TWO—

IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER DROMUND KAAS

Vader strode down the shuttle ramp and onto the hangar deck. Artoo trailed behind him. His loyal troopers — barring the four squads he had ordered to stay behind with Commander Appo — were gathered in rows either side, along with most of the Exactor's higher-ranking officers. The ship's captain, dressed in standard Imperial Navy grey uniform, was waiting to meet him at the middle. He was the picture of confidence and self-control. But Vader knew better. With each thumping stride he took, the middle-aged man's fear intensified. The closer he got, the more radiant and glorious it became. By the time he had reached him, the officer was near on shaking.

Oh... he'd missed this.

The captain dropped into step alongside him as he carried on down the walkway.

"Lord Vader. We are honoured to have you back on-board," the man stammered, working hard to keep up with him.

"Is my ship ready?"

The captain nodded. "Yes, sir. The helm has plotted the course for Coruscant. He is setting the jump routes into the navi-computer as we speak."

Vader regarded him a moment. He seemed quite pleased with himself. A feeling that he would not get to enjoy for much longer. "Tell him to delete them," Vader ordered, not breaking pace.

"Delete them, my Lord?"

"Yes. I have my own coordinates."

"Very well. And the rest of the fleet?" the captain asked. "What of the other three ships?"

"The Intimidator and the Persecutor will follow in escort. The Enforcer is to remain here in low orbit." Vader strode into the turbo-lift and spun around. He held the door, waiting for the astromech to join him. Once Artoo was by his side, he returned to the officer and crossed his arms. "Go. See to it, Captain. I will meet you on the bridge."

"Yes, my lord," he said, offering a curt bow as the door closed.

The lift began its ascent. Vader focused on his breathing, listening to the respirator's rhythmic rasp and hiss as it reverberated off the too-near walls of the cramped cabin. The lights cycled through the levels, fast creeping up on his own private floor.

Artoo twittered a question from below.

"We are returning to Coruscant," Vader said. "My master has demanded my presence at the palace."

The droid twittered quizzically, swivelling his domed head around and turning his photoreceptor up to look at him.

"No, Artoo. The Emperor is my master now," he answered, shifting his footing, suddenly feeling oddly uncomfortable under the astromech's line of questioning. "The palace is the old Jedi Temple. He had it refitted mere days post the Order's collapse."

Artoo let out a sad whimper and looked away.

Vader stared at the lights, watching as they flickered closer to his level. He sighed. Both Padmè and Obi-wan had previously questioned him on this matter. Yet only Artoo — his beloved, loyal droid; the very symbol of his marriage vow to his wife — had managed to illicit in him any feelings remotely similar to those indicative of guilt or remorse. It was strange. He closed his eyes and stretched out to the Force, looking for some clue as to what this could all possibly mean.

And the Force answered.

He felt it then. The familiar tingling sensation slowly creeping its way throughout his entire body. Just the same as it had after he'd woken up in his gifted hyperbaric chamber with Padmè fast asleep in his arms in the palace. The same as when he had first held his son back on Tatooine. Like a small lantern hopelessly fighting back the consuming black shadows of night. Vader opened his eyes as the lift thumped to a stop; his mind spinning from the sudden and unsettling realization.

Now that he was away from the city, the tiny candle that had once flickered into life deep inside him had finally resurfaced. So too, it seemed ... had the Light.

DROMUND KAAS: KAAS CITY

Padmè practically skipped from the bedroom, rushing to show the Jedi the recording. If he could see and hear it for himself, then just maybe, he would help her try and save her husband from his twisted fate before he disappeared for good. It was worth a shot.

"Obi-wan!" she cried, rushing for where he was still seated in the recliner. "You have to see this!"

He looked up as she skidded to a stop before him, her excitement and relief almost too much to bear.

"I have to see what, Padmè?" Obi-wan asked sceptically, still holding the shiny disc in his hands.

"The recording! The one Anakin made for me just before he left." She started to fuss with the wrist-com, moving to activate the embedded holo. "He was in my ship. He said things... things that I just know mean—"

Obi-wan rose from his seat and gently placed his hand over hers before she could activate it. His grey eyes were deep and emotive, yet insistent. "Stop."

She looked to his hand. Didn't he want to see it? Did he already know about the recording? She glanced back up and cocked her brow. "I ... I don't understand."

He sighed. "Whatever he said, Padmè ... it was meant for you. And only you." He shook his head and sat back down. "He did not wish for me to see it. So please, for all of us, I am asking you not to show me. Do not even tell me about it."

Padmè glanced between her gift and the Jedi; torn. She desperately wanted to share this with him. It was the sign that she'd been waiting for. The one that told her that her Ani was finally coming back. "Please, Obi-wan. You need to see this. Won't you just watch it? Not even for a minute?"

He shook his head again and stared down at his disc. "No, Padmè. The Force has already told me what is happening. I don't need to see it ... I also don't want you getting your hopes up." He let out a heavy sigh and stuffed the disc into his belt. "He's on his way back now and unfortunately, Palpatine knows all too well how to manipulate him."

"Yes. Well two can play at that game." Padmè turned to the glass doors and folded her arms. "He is not the only one who knows how to get Anakin's attention. As his wife, I have a few tricks of my own up my sleeve." She stared into the night sky, seeing three distant glowing lights. They disappeared, seconds before three rumbling sonic booms shook the city. The star destroyers were gone.

STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER DROMUND KAAS

Hands clasped at his back and cloak flowing, Vader charged up the gangway to the viewport and waited. He had left Artoo parked in his quarters, much to the little droid's disgust. But he couldn't afford to have him following him around the bridge and getting in the way of things. Not to mention the suspicion it would've raised amongst the Exactor's crew. No. There was enough suspicion surrounding him already. It was a wonder his master hadn't heard mention of his children yet. Or if he had, he was keeping that secret closely guarded.

The officers called out from their stations both above and below the crew pit, signalling their imminent departure.

"Helm?" the captain demanded.

"New coordinates set, Captain. Navigation ready," the helm replied.

"Prepare to jump to lightspeed."

Vader watched as his ship lurched forward and the stars ahead bled into starlines; a sinking feeling settling deep in his stomach. Hyperspace had always had this effect on him. Whether it was due to the inertia or the hypnotic light display, he wasn't sure, but it inevitably caused his mind to wander.

He hadn't wanted to leave before straightening things out with Padmè. But she'd been taking too long, and the very last thing he wanted was to make her even more upset. After leaving three calls from the Exactor go unanswered, he had finally accepted on the fourth. The best he could hope for now, was that Kenobi had made sure to direct her to the wrist-com he'd left on the dresser. Hopefully, she'd see the message and understand that he had come in to apologise and that she just hadn't given him the chance.

Spinning on his heel, Vader turned from the viewport and strode toward the captain by the command center. He briefly looked to the nav-display. By his calculations they should arrive at Coruscant in just short of ten hours, giving him ample opportunity to rest and recuperate in the hyperbaric chamber.

The captain about-faced. "ETA to Coruscant oh-eight-hundred, my Lord," the officer said.

"Good. I will be in my quarters. Alert me at once if the situation changes."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

With a flourish of his cloak, Vader whirled and left the bridge.

Artoo had wasted no time in cleaning up the war zone that was his quarters. All of the debris from when he and Padmè had first argued about his contacting his master was gone. Vader stopped by the blast door and watched as the astromech finished stacking the old Jedi books back on his work bench; the ones Appo had retrieved from his former Master's hut on Tatooine. "I see you got bored," he said, hooking his thumbs into his belt.

A long string of irritated chirps and twitters chorused from the droid, going on about how it was too difficult for him to move around with all of the mess on the floor.

"I did not expect the stool to shatter when I threw it," Vader said nonchalantly. He moved to join Artoo at the work bench and casually picked up one of the books. "Nor did I care at the time."

Artoo rattled off some sarcastic remark about him not caring about much anymore.

Vader shrugged it off. "Things change." He thumbed through the pages and stumbled across a handwritten note. The paper was brittle and yellowed; the cursive handwriting unmistakably Kenobi's. He let out a derisive snort and headed for his chamber. "People ... change."

An inquisitive chirp came from the astromech. One that made the dark lord stop cold on the steps. He sighed and lowered his head. "No. She would not let me speak." Grinding his teeth, Vader continued into his chamber.

"Wooooh — rooooh," Artoo whistled despondently.

Laying the open book down on the command console, Vader braced his gloved hands either side and growled back. "I am well aware that I deserved it, Artoo." He thumped the chamber controls to lower the walls and collapsed into his seat. "Leave me now. I wish to be alone."

DROMUND KAAS: KAAS CITY

After seeing her master off at the hangar, Syrennè headed back to the com-room at the palace, feeling frustrated. Her training was incomplete, and now with Vader returning to Coruscant she was starting to doubt that it ever would be. He had assured her that her lessons would continue in his absence. But how was that going to be possible with him on the other side of the galaxy?

Rounding the last corridor bend, she closed the short distance between her and the doorway and carried on inside. She stopped in the threshold. The com-room seemed so quiet and empty. Since the day he had taken her on as his apprentice, she'd been kept busy. Meditating. Combat training. Learning how to listen to the Force. Now she felt lost. Unsure about what to do with herself now her master was gone.

Looking to the restraining bench, she caught sight of the old journal he'd lent her. Perhaps that was a good place to start. She walked past the holopod and sat on the bench, deciding to do some more research. The journal wasn't exactly what she would call a page-turner, but it did have some good parts. Especially the entries on Darth Malgus's twi-lek mistress, Eleena. She could see why her master had become so interested in him.

"If I had known how well read that journal was going to be, I would have put more effort into it," a deep gravelly voice said.

Syrennè fumbled with the book, catching it just before it hit the floor. She looked around in shock, then stared at a tall dark shadow slowly creeping toward her. "Who... who are you?" she gasped, dropping the journal onto the bench. "Where did you come from?"

"That is my journal you are reading."

She gulped and looked between the old book and the shadow. The shadow crept closer. "Darth Malgus? But how? I ... I thought you were dead."

"That, I am..." he said, materializing before her. "Your master brought me back to this city and released me from the holocron."

He was roughly the same height and build as Vader, with similar armour. Only instead of a full helmet, he wore a triangular respirator over his mouth. In lieu of the cloak, he had a black hooded robe that hung low over his face. She took a moment to settle before asking the obvious. "Why are you here? With me, I mean?"

Malgus folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. "I am to continue your training, young acolyte. You have much to learn before you can truly call yourself Sith." He pulled out his weapon and ignited it. The crimson blade hummed as he twirled it in the air. "Such as bleeding your lightsaber ... among other things."

"Bleeding it?" she asked, retrieving hers from her belt and assessing the hilt. So that's how the Sith attained their blood-red blades. She looked back up at his two burning gold eyes and suddenly felt a little excited. "Will you teach me to memory walk? That ability fascinates me. I have read much about it in your journal. My master can do it ... he used it on me when I became his apprentice."

He chuckled and sheathed his weapon. "All in good time, Syrennè. All in good time. For now, go. Get some rest. You will be needing your strength in the morning."

Syrennè rose to her feet and yawned. Now that he'd mentioned it, she did feel exhausted. "Yes, my Lord," she said, dropping into a respectful bow before turning away.

STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: HYPERSPACE: PERLEMIAN TRADE ROUTE

Helmet off and walls closed, the Dark Lord sat alone in his hyperbaric chamber, deep in meditation. The bookmarked chapter in the ancient textbook had given him much to think about. It detailed an experiment carried out by the Jedi, thousands of years earlier on the Jedi turned Sith Lord; Darth Revan. Through focussed meditation and mental corruption, they had managed to erase his memories and turn him back from the Dark Side.

Kenobi had evidently studied it intensively at some point during his solitude on Tatooine. The pages were worn and sand was wedged in the binding. What had he been thinking? Had he actually considered trying out such an attempt on him?

The thought was as disturbing, as it was perverted. So much so, that instead of using this precious time in his chamber to heal, Vader had found himself reaching out through the Force and feeling along their old bond. Searching for any indication that that may have been, at one time, his former master's intention.

He was suddenly thrown forward and wrenched from his trance. His dazed amber eyes darted around his chamber, watching as the stark walls rattled and shook. The ship's klaxons were wailing. He hit both the helmet retractor-arm and chamber release controls simultaneously. Something was going on, and he needed to find out what.

When he reached the bridge, the captain was in a state of panic. He was rushing from station to station, barking out orders and demanding explanations. Vader charged forward and stopped by the command center, directly blocking the hysterical officer's path. He propped his hands on his hips, his cloak splaying wide. "Captain!" he boomed, not bothering to conceal his irritation.

The terrified man froze and stared up at him. "Lord Vader! The proximity alert ... it ... it cut the hyperdrive and ripped us from lightspeed, sir!"

He growled. "Show me."

They both moved to the nav-display.

"There..." Vader said, pointing over one of the seated officer's heads to a small blip on the screen. "Do you see it?"

The captain rubbed his eyes and squinted. "It looks to be a ship of some sort. Lieutenant Halsin, get me an ID marker on that vessel."

"Right away sir," Halsin acknowledged. He didn't turn around to look at the angered Sith Lord standing at his back, wisely choosing to jump into action. After a moment he glanced over his shoulder. "It's one of ours, Captain. A small cargo freighter. Call sign; ICF-221. She appears to be lame, sir."

So, the ship was Imperial. The question was now, what was one of the Empire's cargo freighters doing floating powerless in the Outer-rim? Surely, no-one in the known galaxy was bold or even stupid enough to take on an Imperial ship. Not with the threat of his naval fleet growing in size exponentially by the day. "Try hailing them," Vader ordered, folding his arms just below his chest plate.

"Yes, my Lord," Halsin said. He tapped at the controls and leaned forward. "ICF-221. This is the ISD Exactor. Do you copy?"

Nothing but static. The Lieutenant tried again. "I repeat. ICF-221. This is the ISD Exactor. Please acknowledge."

Again, no answer. He turned to the Sith and Captain at his back. "They're not responding to our hails, my Lord. Your orders?"

Vader faced the Captain. "Advance our position until the freighter is within range of the tractor beam. Then bring it in for investigation. I want to know why one of the Emperor's ships is currently deadweight and drifting in space."

The Captain nodded. "Yes, Lord Vader."

He turned and left for the viewport while the Captain called out to the crew. As the Exactor came up to speed, debris peppered the bow and bounced from their shields. Vader clasped his hands at his back and fixed his gaze straight ahead. A small grey object flickered in the distance. At first glance it appeared nothing more than just another piece of space junk. A tattered and broken remnant of the recently ended clone war. But as they drew closer, he soon realized that it was in fact their dead cargo freighter. He turned in place. "Captain?"

The captain looked up from the command centre. "Coming in to range now, Lord Vader. Readying the tractor beam."

Another call sounded from the crew pit. "Tractor beam locked on and ready, Captain. Preparing to engage."

"Very good, Lieutenant," the Captain acknowledged, turning his attention back to the nav-display. "Commence target retrieval."

The Dark Lord took one last look at the shattered carcass of a ship as it was slowly pulled below the Exactor's arrow-shaped bow, then turned for the gangway. Boots thundering over the crew pit, he barked out to the Captain as he made for the aft-door. "Have the medic and scanning crew meet me in the hangar. If there are any survivors, I want them alive for questioning."

"It will be done, my Lord."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you for all of your reviews/follows/favourites, especially with regards to the last chapter. It is always risky having Vader voice his 'feelings' if overdone it can often seem as though being out of character.

I am contemplating lowering the story rating from M as many other fan-fics posted on here seem a lot more explicit than mine. What do you think? I am currently undecided.

Anyway thanks for reading and as always...

MTFBWY