Suspended above the green moon called Endor is the new Death Star. Ominous and foreboding even in its infancy, it poses a stark contrast to the green innocence of the moon below. I stare at it as we approach, mesmerized by its sheer size and engineering brilliance. I have always been fascinated by the way things work, always been good at building things and fixing things; but this monster impresses even me in its design. I've heard the men around me talking boastfully about its potency, which is apparently even greater than the original…, the one Luke destroyed. And no doubt the rebels will attempt to destroy this one as well…I ponder.

"Lord Vader."

I turn to see Piett standing beside me. "What is it Admiral?"

"I've just received a report that there are a substantial number of rebel ships in the Sullust system," he replies. "Hundreds of ships, perhaps the entire rebel fleet, they report. Do you think they're planning something?"

I nod. "Of course they are," I reply. "It's been 4 months since we chased them out of the Hoth System; I'm sure they're more than ready for a rematch."

Piett smiles. "Well at least they think they are," he replies. "They won't stand a chance against that," he adds, indicating the huge sphere that grows larger as we approach it. "Those rebel scum will be finished once and for all."

I am pensive as I consider his words. "My son is one of those…rebel scum," I tell him, waiting for his stunned reaction. He is silent, and in his mind I can sense the utter disbelief he is feeling.

"You have a son, my lord?" he manages at last, trying desperately not to sound too incredulous. "I had no idea."

"Yes I do," I reply.

"Well, I…congratulations then, Lord Vader," he says stupidly, his face growing red with discomfort. I know his next question, the one he does not dare to ask, and answer it for him.

"His mother, my wife, died many years ago," I say simply, the words still managing to create a stab of pain in my heart.

"My lord," stammers Piett, at a loss for what to say. "I…I am truly sorry to hear it." I can feel his sincerity, which is dangerously close to pity.

I turn to him, regretting having said anything. "Prepare my shuttle," I say gruffly, anxious to change the subject, and then walk away.

"Right away, my lord," Piett responds immediately.

I leave the bridge and make my way for the docking bay. Jerjerrod has no idea that I am coming, and I like it that way. The look on his face when I arrive will make this whole trip worthwhile.

I'm going to enjoy this… I can feel Jerjerrod's increased heart rate even before the ramp reaches the docking bay floor. As I descend, I see his face, ashen, yet trying valiantly to appear happy to see me.

"Lord Vader!" he gushes. "This is an unexpected pleasure! We are honored by your presence!"

Oh this is too much…I wave him off. "You may dispense with the pleasantries, commander. I'm here to put you back on schedule."

"I assure you, Lord Vader," replies Jerjerrod, scurrying along beside me. "My men are working as fast as they can!"

"Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them," I muse, enjoying the look of shock on his face.

"I tell you, this station will be operational as planned," he states, trying to sound authoritative.

"The emperor does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation," I inform him.

"But he asks the impossible," he replies petulantly. "I need more men!"

"Then perhaps you can tell him when he arrives," I return, relishing the stricken look on his face upon hearing my words.

"The emperor is coming here?" he asks with a sharp intake of breath.

"That is correct, Commander," I tell him. "And he is most displeased with your apparent lack of progress."

"We shall double our efforts!" he decides at last.

"I hope so, Commander, for your sake. The emperor is not as forgiving as I am," I reply, and then turn in leave him shaking in his boots.

It has been a tiring four weeks, and I am glad it is over. Yet, the task that awaits me now is even more demanding. I've never been one to back down from a challenge, however; so the thought of whipping these incompetent fools into shape rather appeals to me. I am tired, though, and need to sleep before I begin my newest assignment. Lord Sideous will be here in four short weeks, and I know that he is testing me this time. I cannot afford to let him down.

I am on Coruscant, in our home, sitting down with Padme at my side. She is glowing, radiant with her impending motherhood. She smiles as she takes my hand and places it on her round belly. Immediately I feel something…was that him? I ask her. She nods, her smile growing. The baby kicks again, stronger this time. Whoa! I exclaim. With a kick like that it must be a girl, I tease. Padme laughs. No, she says, running a hand over her belly lovingly. It's a boy, I just know it…

I wake up, my heart aching. How I wish I could do away with dreams…they only serve to torture me, to remind me of all that I have lost. Yet, is this, in some way, her way of reaching out to me? Is she out there, somewhere, in the vastness of the Force, trying to be with me in the only way she can now? No… why would she want to be with you now? She would hate you now, that is certain.

I sit up; astonished to find my face wet with tears that I had believed myself incapable of shedding. Yet, in my despondency, a glimmer of hope suddenly materializes, and I hold on to it desperately. My son…I close my eyes, reach out to him, search for his luminous presence in the Force…it isn't long before I find him. He is asleep...does his mother ever visit him in his sleep as she visits me? I wonder. I reach out to him, trying my best to be gentle; as I imagine a father should be…Luke…can you hear me my son? What is it that you dream of when you sleep? I can't tell you how many times you are in my dreams, my son.. Though he does not respond, I know that he hears me, even in his sleep he and I are connected…suddenly he is awakened, and our connection is broken. Disappointed that he was yanked from me, I am still encouraged by our encounter, for I sensed in him an acceptance that was not there the last time we met. There is a bond there; it is unmistakable, one that even Sidious cannot break, one that shall mean the end to my enslavement to him forever.

Idiots…imbeciles…I am surrounded by them constantly…I quickly surmise why the construction of the Death Star is behind schedule- there is a crew of incompetent fools engaged in its assembly. When Jerjerrod said he needed more men, he ought to have said he needed more men with brains in their heads…

My own skills at fixing mechanical gadgets has come in handy, for there have been many an instrument malfunctioning due to the sheer ignorance of the so called craftsmen using them. I've made examples of more than a few men, their deaths going a long way towards increasing productivity. Within a week of my arrival, things are back on schedule. My master will be pleased, for he is counting on this Death Star to end the Rebellion once and for all. We shall see…

The docking bay is brimming with uniformed men, with an entire legion of clones in attendance as well. It is an impressive welcome for the master of the galaxy; he would expect no less. The tension is thick as the red robed guards take up their position. Jerjerrod stands with me, and we both kneel as the emperor begins his descent down the ramp. He seems older than the last time I saw him, walking now with the aid of a gnarled cane.

"Rise, my friend," he tells me as he reaches the end of the ramp. We walk along in silence for a moment, each trying to size the other up. I sense him probing my mind, so I speak in order to deflect his attempt.

"The Death Star will be completed on schedule," I inform him.

"You've done well, Lord Vader," he remarks. "And now I sense you wish to continue your search for young Skywalker."

I turn to him, startled at the ease with which he has read me. "Yes, my master," I reply simply, realizing there is little point in denying it. Let him know this much at least…

"Patience, my friend," he says, condescendingly. "In time he will seek you out, and when he does, you must bring him before me. He has grown strong, only together can we turn him to the Dark Side of the Force."

"As you wish," I reply dutifully.

"Everything is proceeding as I had foreseen," he gloats, laughing with delight.

Sidious seems pleased with the progress the men have made under my draconian supervision. In no time at all, he has ensconced himself in the grand throne room, surrounding himself with the trappings that come along with being master of the galaxy. I hate the group of courtiers than travel with him, a group of opportunistic sycophants, fawning on every word, satisfying every whim. They stand in the room watching me; I sense their discomfort in my presence, and it pleases me.

"What is thy bidding, my master?" I ask formally.

Sideous stands up and approaches me. "Send the fleet to the far side of Endor," he orders. "There it will stay until called for."

"What of the reports of the Rebel Fleet massing near Sullust?" I ask him.

"It is of no concern," he replies dismissively. "Soon the Rebellion will be crushed and young Skywalker will be one of us. Your work here is finished, my friend. Go out to the command ship and await my orders."

Dismissed again…damn you Sidious...you and your secrets...

"Yes, my master," I say, bowing dutifully.

I leave the throne room, only too happy to go. The thought of returning to the Executor is a welcoming one, for at least there I am master. Why is he sending me away? He knows me well enough to know how I loathe waiting, how I detest sitting around doing nothing. It is yet another way of putting me in my place, no doubt; he is reminding me yet again that I exist only to serve him, and to be ready to do so at any time. This will change very soon, I vow as I ride the turbo lift to the docking bay. Soon Luke and I will put an end to your reign, Sidious, and repay you for the years of enslavement and lies…

The mood on the Executor is one of expectation. Having issued the orders to assemble the fleet on the far side of the moon, I join Piett on the bridge.

"It is good to have you back, my lord," he tells me. I know he means it; he is one of the few men who see me as a human being.

"Thank you, Piett," I reply. "It's good to be back. I take it everything here is running smoothly?"

Piett nods. "Yes, milord. We've been monitoring the crews heading to the moon. So far things have been pretty quiet."

I nod my understanding. "I can't help but think that the rebels will be trying something very soon," I tell him. "Be sure your men verify every code, Piett. We cannot risk even the smallest error."

"Understood, milord," replies Piett. "Is there any particular reason we are waiting en masse this way?"

I sigh, wishing I could give him an answer. "I believe the emperor has a plan," I reply. "We are to wait for his command."

"Of course," replies Piett. "We'll be ready, sir."