Beep… beep… beep…

The rhythmic sounds of the machines designed to force life into the glorified corpse draped across the bed were the only sounds in the cavernous room. Vader's golden eyes traced the dim glow of the surgical pod that hadn't been used in years. Since the medics abandoned their attempts to save his father's life and began merely to preserve it. The large bed cushioning Sidious' frail body was plied with immense pillows and thick blankets as if he might feel their comfort. All as blood-red as the sigil of their family. As if the old man would wake up one day and baulk if they surrounded him with anything else…

There were so many monitors and machines scattered across the room, Vader didn't recognise or understand almost any of their purpose. He did recognise the screens tracking every small function of his father's heart rate, breathing, pulse... no detail was missed. It was a wonder none of the army of medics the palace hired were in here with them now. Perhaps the force was being kind to him today?

It made a nice change.

His black boots stood out against the harsh white tile of the floor as Vader invaded the sterile room like a shadow. A poison. It had been years since either he or Anakin had stepped foot over the threshold of this… mortuary and even then it had only been because Amedda once had the power to force them to visit the larva buried in burgundy sheets. His stomach churned as he looked down upon the man who once reigned terror over his life. Sidious seemed so effortlessly powerful when he was younger, an unyielding, merciless monster who haunted his days and nights.

Vader glanced around at all the machinery necessary to preserve the life of Emperor Sidious Skywalker. The detested. The unloved. The cruel and spiteful. Loathed and rejected by an empire of people forced to swear their undying fealty to him alone. This was no life. It was a waste. Of his time most of all.

Vader's father built a legacy which he intended to undo from the roots to the smallest branches budding from their blackened stems.

He looked down at the old man whose pale, sagging face had grown sunken and bloated from the endless drugs the doctors pumped into his system to ensure his bitter, venomous heart did not fail and free them all. Disgusting, engorged veins lined nearly every inch of his Sidious' skin, revealing the rot polluting his body. He was horrendous to observe.

The very sight of his father in such a condition brought a sickening cough upon Vader so violently that the Prince almost lost his dinner all over the pristine white floor.

This was the life Sidious was so desperate to maintain? He could think of no worse existence to be trapped within. Vader coughed all over again, steadying himself on the metal bed railing as his throat grew dry and raw from the effort. When it finally abated, his yellow eyes took in the deformity that was his father, his expression carving into a bitter scowl. It had been years since he bothered to visit the old bastard… but father and son were overdue a conversation.

Since his discovery of Sidious' journals, Vader viewed his father in a brand new, sickening light.

All his life, he believed that his childhood painted a complete image of the depths of cruelty a man was capable of… but what he had read in his own father's neat, curving scrawl… Vader shuddered. Even with the trouble between Anakin and himself, he could hardly bear to think about what their father had envisioned for their lives.

Hate rippled over him as he gazed upon his decaying father. Enough hate that Vader felt sick.

Granted, he had no children of his own and could barely fathom the love any normal parent felt toward their progeny, but he simply could not imagine a desire to… to do what Sidious wished to… Utterly disgusted, he felt yet another cough claw its way up his throat. When it passed, the Prince wiped his mouth with the back of his black sleeve.

"Your journals were very detailed, father," he said quietly, "They have taught me many lessons I will never forget. I should thank you for that." He and Anakin had received full, well-rounded educations in the abilities of the force and the powers of the dark side and they both bore the lightening scars to prove it. But those journals proved there were powers achievable to them that Vader could never even have dreamed of. The force granted destructive and restorative power beyond what most people's small minds could conceive of. Why did Sidious keep such knowledge to himself? Was he afraid his sons would surpass his power and eclipse him if they gained full control of their abilities? Such fearful selfishness fit his father's character all too well. "I know what you did," he hissed, "What you planned to do…"

A childhood spent training and being forced to fight Anakin before their father perched upon his throne replayed within Vader's mind. If they cried after being hurt or hurting each other, they were punished severely. Sidious did not tolerate weakness. If one defeated the other and stood proud in his victory, their father would lavish such wonderous praise upon the victor that it felt as if the galaxy itself would kneel for him.

Vader remembered Sidious' attempts to manipulate brother against brother. How he poured honeyed poison in their ears about the other, promising the throne to both sons privately, inflating easily bruised egos. Somehow, amongst it all, he and Anakin had only grown closer despite such pressure and constant stress thrust upon them.

After that fateful day, the final battle he and Anakin fought against each other to be proclaimed the one true heir, the entire galaxy had expected jealous fury to implode within his brother when Vader claimed victory. But as he was declared within the Senate, celebrated by thunderous roaring, he had only sensed relief from Anakin where he stood in the shadows.

He'd always thought that was strange. How could a man not desire ultimate power?

Sidious certainly did. Amongst the pages detailing dark power and secretive elements of the force, Vader found something abominable. So loathsome and repugnantly shameful, he'd hardly been able to bring himself to study it in full. It was ironic, really, that the wilting corpse before him had for so long hoarded the secret to life. An unending, eternal life. Absolute tyranny. A monotonous, unbroken reign for all eternity.

The malevolence within Sidious was boundless.

Not that any other living person would ever learn these secrets. According to his father's notes, the galaxy would believe Emperor Sidious had died and his heir would reign and the royal cycle would repeat and repeat… but the reality was Sidious' dynasty would be all his own. He would wear the faces and bodies of his sons and grandsons until they were no longer suitable and discard them for the next.

From face to face. Body to body. Son to son. He would rule forever.

All those trials… all the training, the lies, callousness and malice… it hadn't been mere cruelty and manipulation as he'd thought all his life. It was a contest neither he or Anakin were aware they were fighting. Sidious named it, "The Rule of Two" in his journals. There could only be two who wielded the darkness of the force at once. The father and his heir. Sidious and his future self.

When his mother, Shmi, delivered two sons before her death, it was surprising. There was one child too many. Sidious must have known he had to rid himself of either Vader or Anakin before he selected which boy would fulfil his destiny and endure the possession of their father's vile spirit.

All those tests, everything they endured had been to see which twin would live to become the vessel and which would be killed to maintain balance. And Vader had won. He would be Emperor, his body becoming the host of his father while Anakin was fated to die.

Force help him, Vader had celebrated his victory! He was overjoyed! His fists clenched around the cool metal bar surrounding his father's bed so harshly that his flesh stretched across his knuckles, growing white from the strain of it. Everything he survived as a boy had been one step closer to his glorious purpose and all along… all along his prize was a stolen life and a dead brother.

The Prince's chest heaved violently as yet another fit of coughing wracked his body. He wheezed and hacked until his breath came easier once more. He set his shoulders and cleared his throat. It was time. With a flick of his wrist, the entrance door sealed itself and locked. For what came next there could be no interruptions.

"You're a monster," Vader bared his teeth, "A depraved monster! I hope it burns you to know those great visions of yours will never come to be. Your influence ends tonight, father. Tomorrow is the dawn of my reign and I will see to it that you are forgotten. Your work will be undone and your name will never be uttered again."

It was the ultimate punishment for a man who craved eternity. Sidious had come so close. He would have achieved his dreams if not for the disease which tainted him more quickly than any medicine had been able to fight. Perhaps this was the will of the force at work before Vader's very eyes. It had known his father's nefarious ambitions and sought to stamp them out before they could reach fruition. He liked to believe that. Only such divinity as the force itself could issue such mighty punishment.

This night would see the deliverance of Vader's retribution too. He had hoped Anakin would be by his side when this time came, that he could explain the truth of their lives to him… but it didn't matter. He could shoulder this burden alone. When he died, the knowledge would be lost to time and the galaxy would never know such heinousness again.

Wasn't this his fate all along? Born to duel with Sidious, to replace him and heal all that he had poisoned. One would always replace the other. Vader had somehow gotten a surprise advantage and the full weight of the force's support to defeat his father and purge him from the galaxy once and for all.

Inch by inch, Vader lifted one hand from the cold embrace of the bed rail. His breath stuttered as the full weight of what was to come began to settle upon the Prince's mind. The darkness his father created within him began to heat his blood to boiling. Every fractured piece of guilt, every hesitation that whined in his ear, every reluctance was silenced at once. His mind grew quiet and focused.

Beep… beep… beep…

Vader knew better than to lay a finger on or tamper with any machine preserving the old man's life. Amedda would demand an independent enquiry into his master's death before Vader could have the sack of rotting flesh tossed into the ground. Despite their tentative friendship, the Vice Chair understood his power crested with Sidious and died with him. Perhaps, at last, Amedda would see he had chosen his alliance wrongly.

Did he know of Sidious' plans? Did he expect to serve generation after generation of the same master?

It would explain the man's blind loyalty.

This had to be handled with subtlety. No common man understood the power Vader and Anakin wielded. This, regardless of Amedaa's suspicions, would be ruled an overdue natural death. The galaxy would pretend to mourn and then they would rejoice for his ascendance to the throne. Everything would be well.

Vader's hand stilled where it lay outreached in the air. He sucked in a breath. Give me the strength to see this through, he willed the force. A decent man would shut his eyes until it was over, until the machines stopped beeping with proof of life, but if these past weeks had proved anything… Vader Skywalker was no decent man.

He was going to watch what little life remained inside Sidious fade. He would delight in it.

Slowly, Vader began to close his fist. Inch by inch. And despite the valiant work of the machinery around him, Sidious' throat began to tighten and collapse upon itself as the unseen hand of his son's power squeezed his breath away. "This is what you deserve!" He spat. "No… you deserve worse. You deserve fire and blood and screaming for everything you've done!"

Alarms began to blare but the Prince did not stop. His fist closed and clenched as tightly as he could stand as Sidious' body began to seize and shake before him. Bright warnings flashed up on the screens as more sounds joined the fray. It wouldn't be long before the doctors charged with his father's care barged into the room to find out what was happening.

Vader didn't care.

Die, the darkness inside him roared, die and leave the rest of us in peace!

Suddenly, the Emperor released a long, strangled sound, muffled through the mask which concealed his nose and mouth, pumping useless air into a body no longer able to receive it. One by one, every machine's frantic alerts melted into a droning, lifeless sound as Sidious' loveless, tarnished, heart at last gave out. Vader held on. He held on until the body stilled and he sensed nothing from the beast who sired him.

Finally.

Vader's arm fell limply to his side once more as he stumbled backwards, pressing his back against the wall as he took in the barren, uninhabited body of his father. A bitter peel of laughter burst free of his pressed lips as he slid down, knees quaking, to the floor. Sidious was dead. His father was dead.

It was over!

All at once, the galaxy seemed to shift and right itself as Vader climbed to his feet in time for four human doctors to rush into the room, shouting words and terms he did not care to hear. He watched them check his father's vitals, wide-eyed, before slowly turning to him.

A new dawn. A new day.

A fresh start for all of them.

One by one they fell upon their knees. All muttering the same four words he had waited his whole life to hear.

Long live the Emperor.