And now we wait. Although the trip to Naboo is not a long one, it seems so under the present circumstances.

I pace up and down the bridge, reminiscent of a darker time in my life. Padmé has remained with me, her presence soothing my troubled mind and spirit. Neither of us are able to think about sleep at this point, our anxiety level too high.

As I prowl around the bridge my mind considers how it is possible that Firmus PIett could have survived the carnage of the Battle of the Endor moon. I, of course, was otherwise engaged when the Executor was destroyed; I'm not even certain how it happened. Was he able to escape before the destroyer was utterly annihilated? Did he anticipate the inevitable and leave to avoid it? Knowing PIett as I do, I cannot imagine him abandoning his ship, even if it meant his own death. Is it more likely that he was not on board the Executor becaue he was performing a duty of some sort, one that required him to leave the ship. Yet, I feel that the reason by which he survived is not as important at this point as the reason for assuming a new identity. The man I knew would never have sought to rule the Empire; he was always loyal, ever the consummate man of honour. So what is he doing?

"My lord, we are preparing to drop out of hyperspace," Pandergan informs me.

I nod my understanding. I turn to Padmé, seeing that she is as anxious as I am.

We revert back to sub light, the glowing orb of Naboo directly ahead of us. And just beyond, we see it, the Endeavour.

"Hail them," I tell the communications officer.

"Star Destroyer Endeavour, this is the Aggressor. Respond please."

There is no response.

"Raise shields," I command, an order which creates a ripple of tension among the men.

"Shields raised, sir," Pendergan replies.

"Hail them again, and this time tell them we have our turbo lasers trained on them and will open fire if they do not respond," I order.

Pandergan lifts his eyebrows. "A bluff, my lord?"

"I never bluff," I reply solemnly.

"Endeavour," Pandergan himself announces. "Respond immediately or we will open fire."

There is silence for another moment or two, and then an image materializes on the comm. screen.

"Hold your fire, Aggressor," the man responds. "Admiral Malz wants to speak with your commanding officer."

"Admiral Pendergan here, serving Lord Vader, in temporary command of the Aggressor," Pendergan responds.

"Malz here. How can I help you, Admiral?"

Although the face looks somewhat different, the voice is unmistakable. I have no further doubt that Malz is none other than Firmus Piett.

"Don't play coy with us, Malz," I snap, irritated by his cavalier attitude. "You are in direct violation of orders, guilty of several blatant acts of insubordination. You are relieved of command, and ordered to present yourself for arrest."

Malz/Piett only smiles in response, that same mild mannered smile I know so well.

"And if I refuse?" he asks simply.

"I will blow you from the stars," is my immediate response.

I sense an imperceptible change in Piett as he considers my threat. He confers with a junior officer for a moment before responding.

"I shall prepare a shuttle and come aboard within 30 minutes," he responds at last.

"Make it 20," I return, making sure I keep the upper hand. "Docking bay 3."

"As you wish, my lord," he replies mildly.

I frown as the image of my former first officer fades from the screen. I don't like this. He is up to something; there is no doubt in my mind.

"Have two dozen troopers ready in hangar bay 3," I order Pendergan. "I will deal with this myself."

I turn to leave the bridge, and see Padmé looking up at me questioningly. "Stay here," I tell her.

She simply nods, knowing that I mean it this time.

"Newmann, come with me," I command. The young officer catches up with me as I stride away from the bridge.

I cannot fight the feeling of foreboding as I stand in the hangar bay waiting for the shuttle from the Endeavour to arrive. What if he does not keep his word? What if he is just waiting until we lower our shields to receive him only to upon fire on the Aggressor? Where once I felt as though I could anticipate very move of this man, I cannot now, and this both frustrates me and disturbs me.

The arrival of the shuttle is imminent now, and the hangar doors slowly open to receive it. The clones stand ready, weapons trained upon the doors. Newmann and I stand at the back of the group of troopers, waiting. Finally we see the shuttle as it slows to enter the hangar. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, and I begin to think that I am paranoid. The shuttle enters, lands, and then nothing happens. There is no sign that the occupants have any intentions of disembarking. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, knowing that something is about to happen, something bad; and then I see it: a thermal detonator attached to the hull of the shuttle.

"Explosive!" I shout. "Hit the deck!"

But my warning comes too late, for barely are the words out of my mouth when the shuttle explodes, engulfing half the clones in the ensuing inferno, the other half sprayed with flying debris.

Newmann and I manage to get out unscathed, the blast doors sealing shut behind us to contain the fire. I can feel the agony of the clones trapped within as they meet their fiery death, and shudder at the memory of Mustafar. Alarm klaxons are blaring as we enter the corridor, and are immediately met by a group of clones who surround us, weapons pointed at us.

"What is this?" I demand angrily. "Have you all lost your minds?"

They ignore me and drag Newmann off, leaving me surrounded by well armed troops.

"Lower your weapons," I warn them, taking out my lightsaber. "You don't know who you are dealing with," I add, igniting the saber.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Lord Vader."

I look up to see Malz/Piett emerge from the group of clones. "You see, my troops have taken the bridge, and have in their custody your command crew, not to mention your beautiful wife. One word from me and they will all die. So drop your weapon."

Knowing that I have no choice, not daring to give them the slightest provocation to harm Padmé, I comply. Immediately my wrists are bound behind my back. Malz watches as he walks up to me.

"Now, Lord Vader," he begins. "You and I need to have a little chat. You may have fooled everyone else, but I know better. If were you truly Darth Vader, you would never have surrendered, even if it meant the death of everyone else on board this vessel. Your actions just prove what I have suspected for weeks now; that you are a fraud. And before long, everyone in the Empire will know it too." He turns to one of the clones. "Take him to a cell," he orders. "And see to it that he is well guarded. I will join you shortly," he tells me. "I trust you won't do anything foolish in the meantime."

I am lead away, a prisoner once again. Only this time, it is not merely my own life on the line, but that of my beloved wife. You should have listened to me, Padmé, I think bitterly. You should have stayed on the Intimidator. I can do nothing to change our situation, not without jeopardizing her life. Were she not here with me, things might be different...but there is no sense pondering over what cannot be changed. What's done is done, and now the only hope I have is that beneath the bravado and ruthlessness of Malz, Firmus Piett still exists.