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The Sith Lord and the Scientist Section D - Part 6

Imperial Center, Coruscant, Core Worlds, Year 3, Month 9.

DAY 17

***

I kneel slowly, taking my usual place on the floor in front of my master’s throne. His summons came early this morning, so I left without disturbing my wife’s sleep to tell her I would be gone. Surely she will read the note I left for her if she wakes before I return.

For many long minutes I am ignored, a sign of just how irritated the Emperor is.

‘So, my Apprentice, you disobeyed my orders to return directly here, and went to Rhinnal instead, where you let a Jedi Master escape,’ Palpatine finally states.

From his choice of words and tone, he is not at all pleased with me. I decide to take the safest course of action and stay silent until he has finished his lecture.

‘And before that, you allowed the TIE Phantoms to be destroyed by that miserable Rebel Alliance,’ he continues.

That’s not entirely true. Most of that debacle was Admiral Sarn’s fault. However, given his current mood, correcting him is probably not a wise idea.

His fingers tap on the arm of his chair, revealing his annoyance. I wonder what he will comment about next, but when he says nothing, I opt to do so instead.

‘My family’s security was at risk, so I had to go to Rhinnal,’ I start my defense with the first of his criticisms. ‘And Tholme’s body could have easily been washed into the ocean before the river was searched. Once there, any of the large predators ...’

‘Would have disposed of the evidence,’ Palpatine completes my explanation, ‘and you were forced, once again, to work with incompetents on the Terror.’

He pushes himself up and out of his throne, and goes to look through the window, standing there with his back to me. His favorite vantage point, I note. I stay where I am rather than risk a reprimand for not waiting for permission to rise or join him.

‘Your excuses are tiresome, Lord Vader,’ he snaps at me, ‘but at least you had enough sense to see to it that your wife came to no harm, despite Tholme getting his hands on her.’

Ah, yes. I just knew that topic would come up.

‘Punishing you, much as you have earned it,’ he delivers his verdict, ‘would only risk harm to her and through her, to your son. Instead, I will confine you to Imperial Center indefinitely. Unless I give specific orders to the contrary, you will stay here.’

I somehow stop myself from reacting to that. Pursuing Luke in person won’t be possible, and neither will be spiriting Maia away from his grasp before our second son is born. But despite what I might want to do, at the moment, I have no choice other than to obey him - until an opportunity to do what I need to arises.

The door to the chamber slides open behind me.

‘Ah, Prince Xizor,’ Palpatine greets the newcomer I cannot see. ‘Lord Vader was just leaving. I would hope he can find something useful to do which doesn’t involve the wanton destruction of valuable Imperial property.’

Ignoring his intentional barb, I deliberately, purposefully, rise to my feet and bow. I know the Falleen is busy plotting against me. He is becoming far too influential with my master and I need to do something about that. And pay him back for harming Maia and Mikal. Stalking past Xizor, I don’t bother giving him a second look. Soon, very soon, I will have the information I need to rid the galaxy of him.

As I walk down the Grand Corridor, back towards my castle, I brood about the situation I am caught in. With each passing day, my options are becoming more limited, and what little time I have left is rapidly running out, like the sand in an ancient glass timepiece.

I will be forced to make an unbearable choice, I finally realize. A choice I don’t want to make. A choice I should never have to make.

And Palpatine will be the one to force it on me, as he has such decisions in the past - decisions which always benefited him, in the end, not me.

How am I to choose between my two sons?

Between what survives of my first love and the child of my second?

I wait until I am well away from the audience chamber before I stop, pick up the nearest piece of priceless artwork, and smash it into a million fragments against the wall.

Wanton destruction of valuable Imperial property, indeed.

***

When Ani finally comes back from the Imperial Palace, I can tell he is still fuming about whatever happened between him and Palpatine. I know better than to bother him when he is in that frame of mind, so I gather up the children, who have just finished breakfast, and go to the conservatory. My husband will join us when he is ready to, once he has worked out his frustrations in his usual way on several hapless dueling droids.

‘My Lady,’ Cyran calls to me from the doorway, ‘Blitzé is here to see you and has brought someone else with her.’

I give her a puzzled look. Was I supposed to have visitors today? Somehow that must have escaped my notice when I last looked at my daily schedule.

‘Show them in,’ I reply, ‘and have the kitchen prepare some tea and juices, and something to nibble on, too.’

Thirsk will check everyone before he lets them into the room. Anyone he doesn’t know will get an even closer scrutiny, I note, amused, remembering the last time Admiral Piett’s wife Blitzé stopped by with her sister. After all of my security chief’s pointed questions and the search of her bulky dress he insisted on doing, I suspect that will be the one and only time my friend’s sister comes to see Lady Vader.

There is a splash from the fishpond where Shmi is doing her best to grab a few of its colorful occupants.

‘Leave the fish alone, Shmi,’ I scold. ‘They don’t want to be caught.’

‘Fishy!’ she happily responds, making another attempt to corner the one which she is currently pursuing.

‘Shmi,’ I firmly warn.

She ignores me and reaches into the water, her face a study in willful stubbornness, but this time she leans over that fraction too far.

‘Don’t!’ I try to stop her.

She falls into the water, head first. I wait to see if she can manage on her own, rather than going to help immediately. The pond is shallow, so she shouldn’t have any trouble getting out of it, and Shmi needs to learn to what the potential consequences of her actions might be.

‘Well,’ I tell her, once she is out of the water, ‘Mommy did warn you.’

An unhappy howl erupts from my toddler as she runs over to me. She is now dripping water everywhere. I let out a sigh as I bend over and wrap her in my cloak. In many ways, Shmi is very much like her father. Both tend to be absolutely determined to do whatever they want, regardless of the consequences, and neither one will listen to reason when it suits them to ignore it. Thankfully her sister, Cat, who is chasing Mikal around the garden, is far more compliant and obedient.

‘My Lady,’ I hear Blitzé note. ‘Your children have grown much since I saw them last.’

I look up and smile. It’s been two or three months since she last came by, and Mikal and the twins have added a few inches in that time.

‘I think the girls will eventually be closer to my height than their father’s,’ I decide as I dry Shmi’s hair, ‘but my son will be taller than I am.’

Blitzé takes a seat on one of the padded chairs across from me. Whoever she brought with her is still outside, no doubt being thoroughly inspected by Thirsk.

Cyran steps through the doors, back from her errand, sees what I am up to, and sets the tray with the tea and goodies I had ordered down on the table.

‘An unexpected swim, my Lady?’ she asks, the amusement apparent in her eyes and voice.

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ I admit. ‘She’ll need another set of clothes.’

Blitzé had caught Shmi’s attention and I can tell that my daughter is busy debating what to do. But when my friend gives her no incentive to come over to her, the stack of treats on the table is where my daughter’s focus shifts to next.

‘Treat!’ Shmi demands, pointing at the tray.

‘After you are in some dry clothes,’ I tell her. ‘Now be good and go with Cyran.’

The prospect of having something sweet to eat is all it takes to get Shmi to comply. She happily takes Cyran’s hand and allows herself to be led out. I wait until aide and daughter have left before I start laughing.

‘She is so very willful,’ I reveal to Blitzé, ‘and much of the trouble she gets into is rather amusing. But I know better than to encourage more of the same by letting her think it’s funny.’

My friend nods and gives a me knowing smile. She has a family of her own and plenty of experience with child management. I reach over to pour myself a cup of tea, first doing the same for my visitor. Mikal and Cat haven’t seen what is on the table yet, but it won’t be long before they do.

***

‘What is it?’ I snap when my sparring session is interrupted by an insistent chiming from the comm.

‘The Emperor, my lord,’ I am just as tersely informed.

What does he want now, I wonder. Hasn’t he already complicated my life enough today ?

‘Send the signal through,’ I order.

There is no point in delaying whatever he wants to discuss by going to the Imperial Palace in person.

‘Lord Vader,’ Palpatine greets me.

‘What is thy bidding, my master?’ I give my usual response.

‘It seems that one of my Tarka-Null sculptures has met with a rather unfortunate mishap,’ he tells me.

I smirk behind my mask. That was fast. One of his spies must have been following me.

‘I know that the original was owned by the late Senator Amidala of Naboo,’ he continues.

The audio-only comm connection means that he can’t see my surprise. I remember the small statue which was in Padmé’s Coruscant apartment, but I didn’t know Palpatine was aware of it.

‘Her family was rather reluctant to part with it, but common sense prevailed,’ he finishes. ‘You will go to Naboo to retrieve it for me.’

I stay silent. Confronting my first wife’s remaining relations is one thing I never expected to be ordered to do. Anytime I have been on Naboo, I have gone out of my way to avoid them and her mausoleum. This is another one of his punishments, this time disguised as a trivial errand he could have sent any of his lackeys on. It is almost an insult to be told to do it.

‘Quickly, Lord Vader,’ he adds, when I don’t respond. ‘You won’t be gone for very long, so you will leave your family here.’

‘Yes, my master,’ I automatically answer.

There is no other reply I can give, and no point in arguing with him.

Once the comm shuts off, I destroy another two dueling droids before going to find my wife. Maia will need to know I am being sent away from her again.

***

Ani opens the door, interrupting what I was about to say to Blitzé. Because of his stance, I can tell he is not in a very good mood, and so can my two visitors.

‘Perhaps we should go, my lady,’ Wynssa graciously suggests, setting her cup down as she does. ‘My husband is expecting me to be home soon.’

I give Baron Fel’s wife a quick smile. She is always a diplomat, and thanks to her acting ability, could easily read the Sith Lord’s body language. My husband wants no audience for whatever he needs to discuss with me.

‘Another time, then,’ I agree. ‘Commander Thirsk will show you out.’

My husband steps out of the way as the two women head for the door.

‘I didn’t know you were associating with famous holo-stars,’ Ani notes after they have left.

‘It was a surprise to me, too,’ I reply with a laugh. ‘She came with Blitzé today. Thirsk insisted on getting his holo of her autographed before he would let her in. I never suspected he was a fan of hers.’

‘Neither did I,’ he wryly admits.

From the sigh he lets out as he draws closer to me, I am sure Ani has bad news of some sort to deliver, and it’s probably of the type he prefers to give in private.

‘Cyran,’ I call to my aide, who is busy reading to three happy toddlers, ‘would you please take the children to our quarters for lunch?’

Her nod in response lets me know she understands why I want them to leave.

‘What is it?’ I ask my husband once we are alone.

‘My master,’ he answers, taking my hands in his.

I look up at him and tip my head to one side. That doesn’t tell me very much, but given his reaction after a previous meeting with Palpatine, I think I can guess what he has been told to do.

‘You’ve been ordered to leave me behind,’ I state, ‘while he has you running about, doing some task for him.’

‘Yes,’ is his simple response.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I reassure him, giving his hands a light squeeze. ‘If I have to, I’ll find an excuse to...’

‘You won’t be allowed off-plant,’ he cuts in. ‘I should be gone for only two or three days this time, but it’s clear to me that he intends to keep you confined to Imperial Center regardless of what errands he sends me on.’

‘To keep me close to him, you mean,’ I observe with a touch of bitterness, pulling my hands away from Ani’s.

The Sith Lord’s fingers close tightly over mine.

It won’t be forever, he tries to comfort me.

I need to shift our conversation away from what we both don’t want to discuss - how he intends to keep our son from his master. It’s better and safer, and less worry for me, if I don’t know what my husband’s future plans are until it is necessary.

‘Are you leaving now?’ I decide to ask that dreaded question.

‘Yes,’ he reveals, brushing my hair back from my face with a fingertip. ‘If I leave now, I might be able to finish my errand tomorrow morning and perhaps return by late that night.’

His hands shift, one sliding to my waist, the other gripping my arm as he helps me to my feet. I am getting to the awkward stage in my pregnancy, again, I ruefully note. Ani’s arm stays around me until we are at the base of his shuttle’s ramp, in the castle’s hangar.

‘I will be on the Executor,’ he informs me, ‘and I will call you on the Holonet tonight and tomorrow.’

‘Be careful, my lord,’ I tell him.

‘I will be, as I always am,’ Ani teases.

I wait for him to go, but he doesn’t. Instead, he simply holds my hand in his and stares at me. For some reason this parting is going to be an awkward one for both of us. Silently, I heap as many nasty curses on Palpatine’s head as I know, in every language I am familiar with.

That’s not physically possible, my husband chimes in on my thoughts, scolding me a bit, and you need to practice your Sith some more.

I childishly stick my tongue out at him and am rewarded by one of his deep, rumbling chuckles. That’s much better, I decide, when I am caught in his firm embrace.

Don’t ever change, little goddess, he tells me before he steps back, brushes a hand down my face and is gone.

Executor, Naboo, Naboo System, Year 3, Month 9.

DAY 18

***

I stare out at the planet I left an hour ago, preferring to remember the more recent of my two weddings which were performed there to my meeting this morning with Pooja Naberrie. Thankfully, she did not know who I really was, her uncle by marriage to Padmé, and was only too glad to hand over her aunt’s sculpture as quickly as she could. From a retired senator, who had lived for years on Coruscant, I would have expected some attempt to ingratiate herself for political gain, but her haste to leave my presence was almost rude. Not that I really wanted to talk to her or stay any longer than was absolutely necessary.

‘Lord Vader! Your communication with the Emperor is ready!’ I hear from the crew pit behind and below me.

Good. They have repaired the Holonet at last, so I can report a successful conclusion to this chore. I spin about and go to my quarters as quickly as I can, and once there, ignore the crated statue which has been stored to one side. It is a mocking reminder of the woman who once owned it.

Palpatine doesn’t give me a chance to tell him that it is in my possession. Instead, he dispenses with any sort of greeting and raises an old, unwelcome issue.

‘Your failure on Bespin distresses me, Vader,’ he states.

So, at the moment, I am not even worthy of addressing as his apprentice or by my Sith title. My pride bristles at that. I have done nothing to earn this degree of contempt from him. The topic of my son, though, is one I must be very careful with. Tipping my hand at this point would most certainly result in disaster. Placate Palpatine first, I decide, then see where he is taking this.

‘Luke Skywalker’s escape was unfortunate, but not fatal,’ I tell him. ‘I have sown the seeds of ambition in his mind. Rest assured, he will be ours.’

“Rest assured!” he sarcastically quotes me.

I don’t answer and wait for the rest of his tirade.

‘Ah, yes, put my faith in you!’ Palpatine continues his rant. ‘Were I to judge you by your deeds rather than your words, Vader, I would be forced to conclude you do not wish to ensnare Skywalker!’

Now that is getting a bit too close for comfort.

‘You know that is untrue!’ I immediately deny his accusation. ‘The idea to bring him to the dark side was mine!’

‘Yes, yes,’ he brushes aside my protests.

‘Even now I am redoubling my efforts to find him,’ I reveal, ‘and I have a report of a possible sighting of the rebel fleet.’

True in both instances, but I have different plans for my son than my master does.

‘I am afraid that must wait since I have a more pressing matter for you to attend to,’ he informs me. ‘Construction of the new weapon proceeds apace, but the Imperial fleet alone cannot handle our delivery requirements.’

I keep my opinion of that situation to myself. We have had enough heated arguments over that monstrosity as it is, so why is he bringing it up now?

‘To that end, when you return to Coruscant, you will negotiate shipping arrangements with Prince Xizor,’ my master orders.

‘Xizor?’ I spit out, furious. ‘Do you think it is wise to involve him in this project?’

The Falleen is the last one who should be told about any secret military project. My anger builds. At every turn Xizor is there, mocking me, baiting me, and now he is getting in the way of my plans. Killing him will be something I will savour.

‘Xizor controls the largest merchant fleet in the galaxy,’ Palpatine patiently instructs, like a teacher to a recalcitrant pupil. ‘He can be useful to us.’

‘His ties to Black Sun are too well known,’ I retort in return. ‘He is dangerous and not to be trusted with a military cargo.’

‘Black Sun indeed!’ he dismisses my reservations, pointing a finger directly at me. ‘Do not concern yourself with schoolboy rumors. Better to attend to your own duties. You have your instructions.’

His hologram vanishes, leaving me to fume in its absence. He didn’t even ask about the statue he sent me running off to fetch for him. For a moment, I consider spacing it, then decide that would only result in another pointless errand, where I am apart from my family, in retaliation. No, rather than look at that accusing crate any longer, I will have lunch in my meditation pod and debate what my next move will be.

What’s wrong, dear? I hear Maia ask over our soul bond once I am settled and my helmet is off.

She felt my foul mood, even at this distance.

The usual, I admit.

Palpatine, the rebels, or life in general? she teases.

All of them, I jokingly reply, but mostly the first of those.

There is silence while she tries to come up with a way to cheer me up, I guess. I activate the holo of her and our children I keep in my pod, and brush a finger over her ghostly face.

It doesn’t matter, I reassure her. It’s my worry, not yours.

I can sense that wasn’t what she wanted to hear from me.

I will be home by morning, I reassure her, and my orders will keep me planetside for a few days, at least.

You know I will be waiting for you, love, she tells me before her presence fades away.

For many minutes I stare at her image, considering what I need to do next. I can’t chase Luke directly, and I need someone competent in charge of the fleet. There is only one officer I can trust with that task.

‘Admiral Piett,’ I call him over the comm. ‘I need to speak with you in my quarters.’

I quickly finish my supplement drink while I wait for him to make his way from the command deck to my quarters. He will be efficient about it. Piett is never anything less than that, no matter what or who he has to deal with, including myself. It is one of his best traits and one which I wish my other officers would emulate.

My helmet descends, and the holo of my family disappears at my touch. There is no reason to let anyone see that.

‘Admiral Piett,’ I address him when he finally comes in. ‘I have been recalled to Coruscant indefinitely. The Executor will accompany me under the command of Captain Kallic.’

I can see him tense up and feel his fear through the Force. He thinks I am going to execute him?

‘You shall remain in command of the fleet and continue the hunt for the rebels,’ I swiftly add. ‘In my absence, the flag will be carried aboard the Star Destroyer Accuser. When I return from the Imperial court, you will be reassigned to the Executor.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ he replies, obviously relieved.

‘I am entrusting the fleet to you, Admiral Piett,’ I warn him to make sure he knows I will be fully aware of everything he does. ‘Do not permit yourself any failure - if any comes to my attention, be assured a new admiral will take your place immediately.’

‘Yes, Lord Vader,’ he promptly answers as he snaps a salute.

I dismiss him and smile. Piett won’t fail me. He has lasted longer than any other admiral under my command.

***

Imperial Center, Coruscant, Core Worlds, Year 3, Month 9.

DAY 19

I set my hairbrush down with a sigh. Ani is in his office, reading reports again. He’s trying to stay busy, but I know that being confined to Coruscant rankles him. The Sith Lord is too much a man of action to stay in one place or be idle for very long. By the end of the week, I expect he will be practically climbing the walls trying to find things to do. At least when he was stuck on Vjun with me, I was able to keep him occupied much of the time.

Mikal and the twins are happily chasing one another around. They can’t get into too much trouble, so I decide to go see what my husband is up to.

Ani, I find, is at his desk, frowning at the flimsy in his hand.

‘What’s wrong, dear?’ I venture, not really expecting an answer.

‘Zaarin,’ he replies, dropping the sheet onto the stack in front of him. ‘He’s up to something.’

I settle myself in a chair near him and wait. Sometimes my husband will tell me more, if he is having trouble figuring out a vague feeling or can’t quite put his finger on what the problem is. Helping him through a ‘brain lock’ as he calls it is one of the few times he lets me assist him with his work.

‘And?’ I gently prod when nothing is forth coming.

‘I just have a feeling that he is going to try something, and soon,’ Ani admits. ‘It’s nothing substantial, nothing I can prove. Just a compilation of odd little occurrences.’

I nod. He’s had subtle warnings from the Force before, and they are usually a good indication of what is to come. But Ani has also made mistakes in the past.

‘Perhaps you need to talk to someone who knows him better?’ I hint.

That tactic worked the last time he thought one of the Grand Admirals was plotting mischief, and saved Ani a great deal of embarrassment when his suspicions proved to be unfounded. Miltin Takel hadn’t been planning an attack against the Sith Lord - he had been concealing a spice addiction and an illicit affair with a Twi’lek dancer. It’s one thing to indulge in private, quite another when it becomes public knowledge. The scandal once those secrets came out had given the media fodder for weeks afterwards and prompted the Emperor to send Takel to the Outer Rim in disgrace for over a year.

A slow, impish smile emerges. Rats. Now my husband is up to something, and I know I just suggested it to him in some way.

‘The Garret is in system,’ Ani announces. ‘Perhaps I should go see how her crew is performing.’

I give him an odd look. What? There’s no apparent connection between that and what we were just discussing.

‘And what does that have to do with Zaarin?’ I ask, curious.

‘Major Steele is aboard, and he knows Zaarin fairly well, or did at one time,’ he reveals.

The Sith Lord gets out of his chair, comes over to me, and drops a kiss on the top of my head. I take his hand when he offers it.

‘Time to get into my armour,’ he tells me as I am gently pulled to my feet.

My eyes glance away from his to Michael’s prison which is sitting on his desk. I know that letting my brother out while Palpatine is on planet is not a good idea. But Ani still hasn’t spent much time studying it and I am getting a bit concerned. What if my sibling is permanently trapped inside it?

Ani sees where I am looking and turns my face with his hand.

‘I’ll get him out of there, sooner or later,’ he promises, setting his forehead against my own. ‘We should enjoy the peace and quiet while we can.’

I smile at his teasing. Given Michael’s tendency to hang about, cause trouble, and visit Ani late at night, I can see why the Sith Lord is in no hurry to let him loose.

‘I know you will,’ I answer before I kiss him on the mouth, only to be interrupted by our eldest.

‘Mommy!’ Mikal complains from the office doorway. ‘Shmi took my bantha!’

My turn to play mediator, Ani decides.

He lets me go and heads over to deal with the latest skirmish between our children. After a few minutes, our son’s voice has grown quiet, so I go into the kitchen, knowing that the dispute over the toy has been settled. When I peer into the children’s room, I see that all three have their own banthas. Ani must have opted to dig the others out of the toy box rather than make Mikal share his. That was the quick and easy solution, but not necessarily the best one.

A pair of leather clad arms wrap around me from behind, and I feel his chest box poke me in the back. Ani will be gone soon, to do whatever errands he has been ordered to. I turn about in his embrace and wait for the kiss I expect to receive.

This time we are able to finish it.

While he puts his mask and helmet on, I watch silently. If he didn’t have to wear that, he would look like any other handsome, but scarred, veteran. When he catches my eye, I wink at him. I have something special planned for later, and he has no idea what I am up to.

‘I am going to the Garret,’ he reminds me once he is ready. ‘My planetside tasks can wait until tomorrow.’

I sidled up to him and pull myself as close as I can manage. Ani’s surprise at my move is obvious.

‘You might be the Empire’s for today,’ I whisper suggestively into his ear, ‘but tonight you are mine.’

There is a low chuckle in answer before he brushes my cheek with his gloved hand and is gone.

***

Going to the Garret is pushing my master’s restrictions, but he made no distinction between Coruscant, the planet, and Coruscant, the system. And he will be leaving soon to go oversee some secret project of his, so I won’t bother to ask for clarification. Until he tells me otherwise, I will simply assume he meant the system.

While I wait for Major Stele to be brought to me, I stare out at Ulabo, the Coruscant system’s outermost planet and a barren heap of lifeless, icy rock. There is nothing particularly interesting about it, but I find that looking outside the ship makes the crew think I am doing something mysterious. If they only knew that most of the time it was to keep myself from becoming completely bored.

Captain Barich is standing nervously behind me. I can hear him shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He’s worried his crew won’t measure up to my standards, but my inspection will be a cursory one. Checking his ship’s performance is merely a cover for why I am really here.

‘Major Stele, reporting as ordered, my lord,’ I hear an even, baritone voice announce.

Now here is an officer who is not at all intimidated by me. I slowly turn around to face him. Another Imperial poster boy, I decide. He’s the perfect type to go in a recruiting ad. Months ago, I promoted him and had him sent to the Garret to see how he would perform. So far, he has more than exceeded my expectations. I stare silently at him, to see what his reaction will be, and if it were possible for someone to straighten even further, he manages to do it.

‘At ease, Major,’ I finally tell him. ‘I have a few questions for you.’

Even at ease, he is at attention, I note, amused.

‘I want you to tell me everything you know about Admiral Zaarin’s personality,’ I order.

Stele worked with Zaarin on the TIE Defenders Project and was his main test pilot. Surely their daily contact will have given the Major some insights into the Admiral’s thinking.

‘A brilliant engineer,’ Stele begins, ‘but...’

‘But what, Major?’ I prompt, curious.

‘Ambitious, my lord, and unprincipled,’ Stele states, meeting my gaze without a trace of fear. ‘He did not appreciate that I was loyal to the Emperor, first and foremost. I suspect he was relieved when I was transferred to the Garret.’

Forthrightness, fearlessness, loyalty, and honesty. The Major is a rare officer indeed. No wonder Zaarin preferred him elsewhere. Stele’s devotion to my master is becoming legendary among the Garret’s crew.

The Force spikes a warning. Something is wrong or about to happen, and it is centered on the Emperor, who should be on the Majestic and preparing to leave the system.

‘Captain!’ I call. ‘Has the Majestic jumped yet?’

‘No, my lord,’ Barich responds, ‘but the Harpago has just entered the system and the three modified corvettes which came with her are refusing to answer our hails. Our transmissions to the Majestic are now being jammed.’

That’s one of Zaarin’s Interdictors...

‘I think Admiral Zaarin might be attempting a coup,’ I voice my thoughts as they are forming.

The dark look on Stele’s face reveals his opinion on the matter.

One of the crew below us reports that the corvettes have launched an attack on the Garret.

‘Get your men to their fighters,’ I snap at the Major. ‘See to it that those corvettes are disabled or destroyed.’

His salute is as quick as I expect, and as soon as he is off the command deck and thinks I am no longer looking, the Major breaks into a run. Another efficient officer, I decide, pleased. Hopefully he will prove as competent at removing those corvettes.

I spend the next ten minutes watching Stele’s elite TIE Defender squadron ruthlessly destroy those three ships. Each explodes in a rather satisfying manner as its power plant and engines are targeted. So should be the fate of all traitors. As the fighters return to the Garret’s hangar, I consider the available options. The Executor is on the other side of the system, too far away to be of any use. Perhaps eliminating the corvettes has bought some time, but I need to get back to Imperial Center to warn my master of Zaarin’s treachery.

‘Where is the Osprey?’ I ask Barich.

The Garret’s small escort ship should be nearby and she is much faster than the Star Destroyer.

‘Returning from the resupply station, my lord,’ the Captain admits.

‘Then we will have to take TIE Defenders,’ I decide, ‘and meet the Osprey enroute.’

Before he can answer, I spin on my heel and stalk towards the hangar bay. The best of what remains of Stele’s squadron will accompany me.

The pilots, I observe when I arrive, are listening to Stele give an overview of their performances. Some he praises, others he criticizes, but not to excess. A most even handed evaluation is given to all. I don’t wait for him to finish.

‘Major,’ I interrupt him mid-sentence, ‘yourself and the best four of your pilots will accompany me. The Emperor is in danger and must be warned.’

‘Deltas Two through Five, to your fighters!’ he barks out, sending the chosen men scrambling for their ships.

‘Your designation is Delta One?’ I ask as I walk beside Stele to the TIE Defender I will be borrowing.

‘Yes, my lord,’ he confirms.

‘Rather than confuse your pilots, for the duration of this mission, I will be Delta Six,’ I decide. ‘There is no reason to alert anyone listening to our transmissions to my presence.’

My usual call sign, Black One, will be instantly recognized. It’s far wiser to be incognito until I better understand the situation. And I have learned the hard way that practicality should take precedence at times like this.

Stele drops easily into his fighter. Fitting into my loaner ship is a bit more of a chore. The crash couch is not designed for my bulk or to accommodate any armour. I growl a few choice Huttese curses while I struggle with the acceleration straps. Silently, I vow to ensure that the next set of TIE Defenders are more Sith Lord friendly.

For the first few minutes of the flight, I familiarize myself with the controls. They are not that different from my own TIE’s, so this doesn’t take very long. The other pilots say very little over the comm, unlike the chatter I heard earlier, when the corvettes attacked the Garret. My presence has obviously had an effect of on them.

The scanner pings a group of approaching ships. Zaarin’s Interdictor, I see, and a few Assault Gunboats which have come with her. We will have to punch a hole through their lines to reach the Osprey.

‘Target the Harpago’s shields,’ I order, ‘then disable her. Do the same with the Gunboats if you can.’

There’s no point in wasting the lives of men who still might be loyal or destroying ships if they can be neutralized instead.

Stele moves into the lead. I follow, allowing him to send the first volley of missiles. The Harpago’s warhead launcher is an easy target. No ship should have such large holes in her defenses, especially in such a critical area. I make a mental note to go over the Executor’s shield configuration myself and make any adjustments accordingly.

A second run destroys the shield generator and costs us Delta Four. Before the Interdictor can escape, I personally disable her engines.

The rest of the battle is more of a mop-up. The Assault Gunboats are no match for a TIE Defender, but one still lands a lucky shot on Delta Three. Four fighters left, I grimly observe as I dock with the Osprey, the Major and the remnants of his squadron following me in. I can only hope that it will be enough.

We are met by the Osprey’s captain who was told by the Garret to expect us. While the TIEs are refitted with missiles, I brief him as best I can on the situation. By the time we reach the bridge, information on further developments is available.

‘The Majestic is still in orbit, my lord,’ I am told by the communications officer, ‘and the Glory has just arrived.’

‘Zaarin,’ I hiss, furious.

Everyone knows the Glory is his flagship.

The crewman tips his head, concentrating on whatever is coming in from Palpatine’s Star Destroyer. His slow, indrawn breath suggests that the news is getting worse every second.

‘The Emperor’s just been kidnapped!’ he blurts out, horrified.

I ignore his lack of proper address. He is too shocked by what he has heard to know how to react and I need more details.

‘What exactly has happened?’ I ask, keeping my voice level and calm.

‘One of his own staff has abducted him, Lord Vader,’ he adds, a touch more in control of himself. ‘They’ve put him on a shuttle and are going to transfer him to the Glory.’

‘There isn’t much time,’ I state. ‘Signal the Mescue and tell her Captain to stand by.’

I know that corvette is in orbit, and that her crew are loyal and can be trusted.

‘There’s too great a risk of accidentally hitting the Emperor’s shuttle with the larger ships’ batteries, so we will go out in TIE’s and rescue him, first,’ I decide. ‘Then, the Glory is to be destroyed.’

With a wave of my hand, I indicate to Major Stele that he is to follow me back to the hangar.

It is a silent trip while I brood and think. This entire situation reminds me of the time General Grievous held Palpatine prisoner at the end of the Clone Wars. That was a ruse, and I can’t help wondering if his easy capture this time wasn’t a ploy designed to draw Zaarin out. It would be just like my master to plan something like this and not let me know about it.

I stifle a laugh.

How ironic.

Once, it was Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with no Fear, to the rescue in the skies over Coruscant. Now, it will be Lord Vader doing the same.

The lift stops and opens onto the hangar, revealing our refueled and rearmed TIE’s.

Time to do my duty and save Palpatine, but with only four fighters, not six. I have faced worse odds before, I wryly remember. The last time it was just Obi-wan and myself...

‘An alternate designation, this time, my lord?’ Stele suggests, thankfully breaking my train of thought.

‘Use whatever your men are familiar with,’ I reply.

There’s no need to cause confusion, and last minute changes can be fatal in combat.

‘Alpha call names,’ he tells his men. ‘His Lordship will be Alpha Four.’

‘We are on approach vector with the Majestic,’ I hear over the comm.

‘To your fighters,’ I order the two remaining pilots. ‘Major Stele and I will find and disable the Emperor’s shuttle while you provide cover.’

This time, when we leave the Osprey, I make sure I am the one in the lead. It might be Stele’s squadron, but he is not the one in charge.

Three shuttles emerge from the Majestic as we draw closer. That’s an old trick and one which won’t fool anyone using the Force. The shuttle with Palpatine on it is easy for me to identify. I target its engines, disabling it and ensuring that there is no way for it to move. Now, Zaarin will have to pick up his prize somehow or abandon his coup attempt.

‘Mescue,’ I call over the comm, ‘the Emperor’s shuttle will need to be retrieved.’

An errant TIE comes too close to the shuttle I am guarding. I tag it with a glancing shot, just enough to send it spinning harmlessly away. Stele has been busy destroying whatever fighters he can find. He’s taken the kidnapping a bit too personally, I decide, when his next target is one of the decoy shuttles.

The Glory has stayed back, out of harm’s way. Zaarin is not one to take any risks. He will only enter the fray when there is an opportunity to capitalize. But this time, it seems that luck is not with the Admiral. Palpatine’s shuttle is safely gathered in by the Mescue as a familiar voice echoes over the comm.

‘This is the Vanguard. How may we be of assistance?’ Thrawn lets everyone know he has just appeared on the scene.

Ah, yes, he was due in system today, but I had assumed tonight, not mid-afternoon.

Faced with a new adversary, Zaarin turns tail and the Glory disappears into hyperspace.

‘Coward,’ I growl after him, more for show than anything else. ‘I will kill you myself, Zaarin.’

There is, of course, no answer, so I head to the Majestic to greet my master who has transferred back to his flagship. Hopefully today’s events will have improved his current opinion of me.

***

When Ani returns in the early evening, he hurries past me and into his office. Something is definitely going on. So much for my special evening, I decide with a frown. Whatever has come up will take precedence.

‘There’s an awards ceremony tonight,’ he tells me while he checks for messages. ‘Go put on something suitable. We have to leave soon.’

‘Yes, dear,’ I grumble loudly, just to let him know my opinion of that. ‘Right away, dear.’

My attitude prompts a sigh from him. He knows I hate being put on public display and that I don’t like being given no warning for when that is expected of me. This is probably Palpatine’s doing. Every time I want to do something with my husband, he just has to order Ani away or interfere with my plans. I am beginning to really despise that miserable, old coot.

‘It wasn’t my idea,’ my husband confirms what I already suspected.

I don’t bother answering him and start to rifle through the storage compartment with my gowns. Somewhere in here is a plain, boring little number that I only wear when I don’t want to be out in public and am being made to do so.

Regulated breathing warns me that Ani has come up behind me.

‘Maia, don’t be angry at me for this,’ he says to me, trying to defuse my temper. ‘I know you had plans for tonight, but I didn’t expect to be foiling a coup and kidnap attempt, or to be rescuing the Emperor today, either.’

‘You should have let whoever it was keep the old bugger,’ I snap as I find what I was searching for. ‘That would have solved quite a few problems.’

‘And created even more,’ he adds, taking the dress I wanted from my hands and returning it to where it was hanging.

I glare at him as he pulls out another one and offers it to me. Given my mood and cancelled evening, I am not feeling the least bit co-operative. When he sets his choice down on the bed, I know I am in for a lecture.

‘Very well,’ the Sith Lord concedes instead. ‘Go ahead, be obstinate. It won’t change the situation.’

Somehow I resist following him back to his office and growling at him some more. This isn’t Ani’s fault. He’s only following orders, as always. Taking my anger at Palpatine out on my husband is not a fair thing to do.

I look at the gown he selected. It’s one of his favorites, but not the one I wore to the opera two years ago. He’s never let me wear that one outside our quarters again, since in his opinion it exposes too much of my ‘assets’ to public view. With a sigh, I pick the dress up off the bed and finger the heavy embroidery. There’s no point in fighting with Ani about some stupid, boring ceremony. If I need to, I will simply play sick after the minimum amount of time has passed and ask to be sent home.

‘You’re in a better mood,’ my husband notes when I eventually finish dressing and go to see what he is doing.

He’s turning Michael’s prison over in his hands, examining it. When I draw closer, Ani puts it down.

‘I know what it is,’ he quietly states.

My ears perk up. There’s a tale here, if I can persuade him to tell it to me.

‘So,...’ I try leading him into an explanation.

‘Come here, curious one,’ he teases, beckoning me over.

That’s too good an invitation to refuse so I take my spot on his lap and set my head on his shoulder, expecting to hear one of his stories.

‘I spent some time in the Emperor’s private library before I came home,’ Ani reveals. ‘My master was feeling benevolent after today’s events and let me do some research using his personal collection of Sith holocrons. There was a description of a similar device in the oldest of those.’

‘Well, what is it, then?’ I blurt out, impatient for more details.

‘It’s a Sith soul trap,’ he identifies the black and silver pyramid at last. ‘I don’t know how the Jedi learned about them since their manufacture and use has always been a closely guarded secret. Where Tholme found this one, I can’t say for sure, but from the markings, I suspect it was made on Korriban.’ Ani picks the gadget up again and stares at it. ‘The ancient Dark Lords used them to imprison the spirits of their dead rivals, so it makes sense that it would do the same to a Jedi ghost.’

‘If you know what it is, then what is the problem?’ I ask.

He doesn’t reply immediately, and I can sense that he knows the answer is one I won’t like.

‘Imprisoned spirits were never intended to be released,’ the Sith Lord finally admits. ‘I don’t know if it’s even possible to open a soul trap after it has been sprung, and the holocron gave no explanation for how that might be done, only the steps for how to create and activate one.’

I take the soul trap from his hand and hold it close to my heart while I mull over his words. It takes a few minutes for what he has said to sink in.

‘You don’t know how to get Michael out?’ I interpret his explanation in a shaky voice.

‘There is no way to get him out,’ he softly answers.

***

I calmly, patiently reveal to my wife what I discovered this afternoon and have dreaded telling her ever since. Michael is the only family she has from her homeworld. Losing him will tear her apart with grief when I need her to be at her strongest.

Her fingers take the soul trap from mine and she holds it tight, her knuckles going white as she clings to it. It will take a minute or two for her to realize the implications of what I have told her. I carefully adjust my shields in anticipation of her reaction.

‘You don’t know how to get Michael out?’ she says in an unsteady voice.

There’s no point in hiding the truth from her, and Maia deserves to know the worst case scenario. Better to tell her now, rather than later, and be done with it.

‘There is no way to get him out,’ I quietly reply.

She collapses against my chest at that revelation, and I feel her hope for her brother’s freedom shatter. I hold her close and do my best to comfort her.

Damn Jedi, I silently curse as I rock my weeping wife in my arms. I should track down every remaining one of them and inflict the same punishment on them that they have imposed on her. An eternity of having a bondmate there but not there - not dead, not gone - still alive to the senses yet forever just beyond reach. Having the bond to her brother severed completely would have been far kinder than what Maia will be living with.

‘It’s alright, little goddess,’ I try to soothe her. ‘He’s safe in there, no harm can ever come to him, and he will feel it when you are near.’

My words give her no consolation. I pull her closer, stroke her hair and face, and wait for her emotions to run their course. The hormones from her pregnancy are amplifying and prolonging what her normal reaction would be. Her earlier, uncharacteristic temper tantrum probably came from the same source, too.

I try to make the hushing noises which work for the children, but with my mask on, they come out as odd sounding hisses. Her crying starts to slow and when my wife stirs, I know she is listening to me. There is a quiet giggle from her at my next ‘shush.’

‘You sound funny when you do that,’ she blurts out.

I ignore her lack of tact. She’s in no condition to go anywhere, and most certainly not out in public. I will simply give a medical excuse to my master, if he makes an issue of it, as an explanation for why she isn’t at the awards ceremonies tonight.

‘I think it would be best if you stayed at home,’ I tell her.

Maia merely snuggles back into my shoulder in response to that.

She’s definitely in shock.

I activate the comm and put in the code for her doctor. She can stay and watch over my wife while I am away. When Palpatine decides to get a confirmation of Maia’s illness, he will have to deal with her. A chuckle escapes before I can stop it. Hopefully my master will comm Leanan when I am there to hear that conversation.

‘Yes, my lord?’ my call is promptly answered.

‘I need you to stay with my Lady while I am at the palace for a few hours,’ I pause, have a quick debate with myself for how to explain the situation, then decide on what is simplest, and perhaps closest to the truth. ‘She has just heard that her older brother has died and is in shock.’

I close the channel before the doctor can say anything in reply.

‘Up you go, love,’ I warn as I shift Maia about in my arms and pick her up.

The soul trap falls to the floor when I move her. I’ll put that away in a safe place later.

She’s getting heavy again, I note, while I carry her into our bedroom. It won’t be long before I will have to be careful how I handle her.

‘Ani?’ she says when I set her down.

Maia’s voice is drowsy, almost dreamlike. Her mind is distancing her emotionally from the loss of her brother, and making her sleepy as a temporary protective measure. By tomorrow, hopefully, she will be in a state where she can better cope with the situation.

‘Time for bed,’ I suggest.

She lets me help her out of the formal gown and into a nightgown before I settle her under the sheets. I move a couple pillows around to make her more comfortable and pull the covers over her. Her hand catches mine when I go to leave.

‘Ani?’

That quiet, almost childlike, little voice again.

Palpatine can wait.

I lace my fingers with hers and sit down on the bed.

‘I am right here,’ I reassure her.

My Force sense gives a warning. The doctor is in the other room, keeping her distance until I have left my wife’s side. I ignore her and stay where I am until Maia’s fingers slip from my own. She’s sound asleep so I gently set her hand on the pillow next to her face.

‘She’s out cold, doctor,’ I tell that petite dragon disguised as a woman once I am well out of Maia’s range of hearing.

‘You know you should be staying here with her,’ she states, dropping all pretext of formality, and looking past me to where my wife is sleeping. ‘I am no substitute for her husband.’

‘I can’t stay,’ I just as bluntly reply. ‘My presence was ordered, not requested.’

Leanan raises her eyebrow in disbelief. Doctors. They are all alike, and it seems that any who are competent and able to survive working for me have exactly the same insolent attitude.

‘If she wakes and asks for you, I will comm you,’ she warns, pointing a finger directly at me. ‘And I don’t care what or who that happens to interrupt, either!’

Out comes the overprotective mother saber cat. If I wasn’t late already, I would stay a little longer simply to argue and fire her up some more. Palpatine will probably check on what Maia’s status is and hearing Leanan take strips off of him, if he pushes her too far, will be most entertaining. The doctor has quite a temper, and fears nothing and no one.

‘If you feel it necessary,’ I concede, ‘then do so. Just don’t expect an instant response if I am in the middle of something which can’t be disrupted. I may have to return your call a few minutes later.’

I hear Maia stir, so I walk farther away from the bedroom and lower my voice.

‘Cyran has the children and needs to be warned they are not to wake their mother. I should be back before their bedtime,’ I add a few instructions.

I accept her nod as confirmation and hurry to the Imperial Palace. By the time I arrive, I have missed Thrawn’s secret promotion. How unfortunate. Of all the events scheduled for tonight, that was the one I would have preferred to see.

Thrawn emerges from the Emperor’s private throne room. I wait for him to join me. The public award ceremony for Major Stele will not begin for a few minutes, so I will congratulate the freshly minted Grand Admiral before it does.

‘Lord Vader,’ he greets me.

‘Grand Admiral,’ I reply with his new rank.

His eyes flash in response to my recognition of his advancement. His ambitions have been fulfilled, for the moment, and he suspects I helped him reach his goal. Which, of course, I did. Someone had to replace Zaarin, and Thrawn was the obvious, and so conveniently on-hand, candidate.

There is the tell-tale, familiar tap of a wooden cane on stone.

‘I expected your wife to be...’ Thrawn begins.

‘...here with you,’ Palpatine finishes as he comes up behind us.

I immediately turn and start to kneel, but he stops me with a gesture.

‘She has taken ill, my Emperor,’ I smoothly explain. ‘Her brother has died, and the shock from hearing the news was too great. She is sleeping, now, and her personal physician is with her.’

His eyes bore into me, measuring the truthfulness of my words. I know he wanted to see Maia tonight, so he could gloat over his ‘prize.’

‘Perhaps she will have recovered enough to attend the opening of the new opera tomorrow night,’ he hints.

‘Perhaps,’ I easily agree, ‘but I will follow her doctor’s advice on the matter.’

Thrawn observes this exchange in silence. He misses nothing and I am sure his analytical mind is filing away every word and nuance of body language for later analysis.

‘Shall we see to it that Major Stele is suitably rewarded for his efforts of today?’ my master suggests.

‘As you wish,’ I neutrally concur.

The largest of the public audience chambers is not far away, and the networks will see to it that the entire galaxy sees the ceremony. Thrawn takes his leave with a snapped salute before we reach the appropriate door. His presence is no longer required.

Sate Pestage meets us. I accept the leather box holding Stele’s medal from him and follow Palpatine inside. My master acknowledges the crowd, which cheers wildly as he takes his seat in the elevated throne. He’s enjoying playing the benevolent grandfather for them.

‘Maarek Stele, come forth,’ I call out, silencing the hubbub.

The pilot, in his dress uniform marches forward, his eyes never wavering from looking straight ahead at the Emperor. Utterly fearless and totally devoted, I observe. He stops the requisite distance away, salutes, and kneels as the ritual requires. I open the box I had received a few minutes ago and offer the red, blue, silver, and gold medal inside to Palpatine.

‘For bravery and honor,’ the Emperor states. ‘For distinguished service to the Empire...’

I tune out his speech and concentrate on those who are around us. Stele is very much an unknown outside of the military sphere. Most of those in attendance are trying to look interested and enthusiastic, but have only come for show. Xizor has managed to perfect the attentive act. I glare at the Falleen standing on the other side of the dais. At least he has enough sense to stay out of striking distance.

Palpatine finally finishes, ‘...and so I present you with the Emperor’s Will, the highest award I can give you.’

The Major bends his neck, letting the medal be placed around it and assuming what has just been bestowed on him. There will be no acceptance speeches here. Nothing which draws attention from the Emperor is permitted.

The public drama is over. For the next act, only a few players are required.

Palpatine rises and leads the way out. Behind him, Major Stele falls into step with me. I hand the medal’s box to him once we have left the chamber, and indicate he is to continue at my side. The pilot’s curiosity is obvious. He’s already a member of the Secret Order of the Emperor, but shifting him to another form of service, one under the direct control of my master, requires another short ceremony, this time in private.

Before I move to stand next to him, I wait for my master to take his throne, again, in the same room in which Thrawn’s promotion was conducted. Stele kneels in front of both of us. For each one who is inducted into the group the Major is about to join, the ritual is completely different. Palpatine varies the wording as he pleases and I never know exactly what to expect. Hopefully he won’t drag it out tonight so I can return home to my wife.

For a few long minutes there is silence. The Emperor likes to play with people in this way. The more someone wants him to hurry up, the longer he makes them wait. It’s a measure of his power over them.

‘I have a job for you, Maarek Stele,’ he finally announces. ‘A unique position where you will serve me as an extension of my will. You will be my hand, the Emperor’s Hand.’

It’s going to be that version this time.

I watch him slowly rise and approach the motionless pilot.

‘You are the only one I can trust in this manner,’ he continues, resting his hand on the Major’s shoulder like a mentor would, like he once did with me, ‘and the only one whose loyalty has never wavered. You proved that to me today.’

His hand falls away and he goes to resume his seat.

‘I need someone like you to act as my special agent - a person who can go anywhere, do anything,’ Palpatine makes his offer at last. ‘You will have whatever you need to fulfill your duties. All that is required is for you to complete your missions successfully.’

Stele slowly nods in acceptance.

‘Yes, my Emperor,’ he replies in a steady voice.

As if the Major would answer in any other way.

‘Failure is not an option,’ the pilot is warned, ‘and your training will begin tomorrow.’

My master motions his newest Hand to his feet.

‘Go enjoy the rest of the evening,’ he says in dismissal before leaving his throne once more, this time to gaze out the window.

Now that’s a major deviation from the usual script.

‘Old friend,’ Palpatine calls me over to his side after we are alone. ‘Your mind has been elsewhere all evening.’

I hesitate. Has my worrying been that obvious?

‘Your concern for your wife is as clear to me as the water in the lakes on Naboo,’ he prods a little when I don’t answer right away.

‘Her brother was her only remaining relative,’ I decide to mix truth and slight exaggeration. ‘She collapsed when she realized she would never see him again. Of course I am concerned.’

‘And so you should be,’ he softly states. ‘I have tested her. Your wife is not as strong as she seems. Losing him must have been a terrible blow to her.’

I consider that for a moment. Does he really think he can fool me into believing he actually cares?

‘She will recover, in time,’ I respond indifferently.

His exasperated sigh breaks through my thoughts.

‘There is no point in wasting our time with this charade any longer, so stop pretending you have no feelings for her,’ the Emperor scolds. ‘You are no better at concealing your emotions from me, now, than you were at hiding what you felt for your first wife twenty years ago. I am fully aware of exactly how you feel about your consort. If you didn’t love her, you wouldn’t be lifebonded to her. As long as that doesn’t interfere with the performance of your duties, it doesn’t matter.’

I take a surprised step backwards.

‘We are Sith, Lord Vader, not Jedi. Slavish adherence to outdated thinking was the downfall of the Jedi Order,’ he continues, ignoring my reaction to his words. ‘I do not intend for the Sith to become as hopelessly fossilized and vulnerable as they were. If loving your wife makes you a more effective commander and a better Sith, then so be it.’

What? Where did all that come from?

‘Go home to your wife,’ he waves me away, suddenly sounding as tired and old as he looks. ‘Consider yourself free of any duties while she recovers from her shock. If she needs to attend her brother’s funeral, take the Executor and go.’

‘Thank you, my master,’ I reply at last, unsure of what else to say.

‘No, old friend, it is I who owe you a debt of gratitude,’ he admits. ‘I know you were the one who foiled Zaarin and rescued me, not Stele, though he has been given all the credit.’

I freeze in place. Now that is something I never expected to hear. He is in a strange and philosophical frame of mind.

‘Now, go,’ he repeats. ‘It’s late and I am exhausted.’

I take advantage of his generous mood and leave as quickly as I can.

***

I feel two strong arms wrap around me, rousing me from my confused dream.

‘It’s just me,’ Ani quietly reassures me. ‘Go back to sleep.’

I am pulled in close as he kisses my neck.

‘Ani,’ I mumble happily into my pillow.

Something happened today, but I can’t remember what it was. Maybe my husband will tell me about it in the morning.

I pull his hand to my chest, hold it tight and let my eyes drift shut again.

DAY 22

***

Thrawn quietly watches Maia leave the public reception area of my castle with the children. I know he’s been waiting for the opportunity to speak to me in private, and this is the first chance he’s had to do it.

‘She doesn’t remember?’ he asks.

‘No,’ I admit, ‘and perhaps that is for the best.’

I hand him a glass of neema fruit juice before taking a seat across from him.

‘She seems to have completely blacked out all knowledge of her brother’s death,’ I reveal. ‘I haven’t mentioned it to her, and I would appreciate it if you remain silent about it as well. When she is ready, that memory will return to her.’

There has been no indication from my wife that she is aware of why her brother hasn’t shown up to make a nuisance of himself. When I asked Leanan about it, her advice was to leave it be until Maia raises the subject herself. I will simply work around it as I need to.

‘The mind can be a strange thing when it comes to grief and shock,’ Thrawn observes.

‘Indeed,’ I politely respond, activating the signal jammer in the room with a wave of my hand as I do so. I want to make sure no one can overhear or record this conversation.

My gesture is acknowledged with a raised eyebrow.

‘This room is now secure,’ I confirm his obvious suspicions. ‘We could have used my office, but I would prefer to discuss this with you where there is no risk of my wife or children intruding.’

I rise to my feet and move to where I can stare out the window, towards the Imperial Palace.

‘You are aware of the construction project at Endor?’ I ask, though I know the answer already.

‘I have been briefed, yes,’ he admits.

‘I opposed its construction from the beginning,’ I reveal. ‘It is a foolish waste of resources better spent on other, more important and immediate concerns.’

The Grand Admiral gives no outward indication he is disturbed by my words, but I can sense he is unsure where this discussion is going. I rarely let my personal opinions, especially those that disagree with my master’s, be known unless I have a specific reason to do so.

‘It will attract the attention of the rebels exactly as its predecessor did,’ I state. ‘In fact, I know they will attack it before it is complete.’

My one brief foray into Maia’s hidden memories made that plain. The rebels will destroy the second Death Star, but I don’t know exactly when. My only clue to their timing is my presence at Endor.

‘You are certain of this?’ Thrawn finally poses a question.

‘My source for this information has yet to be wrong,’ I admit. ‘The rebels will soon learn of its existence and infiltrate the facility when they think it will be most vulnerable.’

I shut my eyes and pull the image of the Death Star, its incomplete framework reaching towards Endor’s moon like a spider for its prey, from what I had found in Maia’s mind. During my last visit there, it had not yet reached that stage, but within the next few months, it will. And I am still not ready. Time, it seems, will never be on my side.

‘I suspect you require my aid,’ the Admiral shrewdly notes, ‘otherwise you would not have told me this.’

‘It would be useful if you found some reason to keep your fleet within the Moddell Sector,’ I suggest, ‘as a precaution, nothing more.’

‘The Monsua Nebula was once a haven for pirates, and much of that sector has yet to be properly mapped,’ he replies. ‘It will be simple enough to find excuses to keep my ships in the area until you require us elsewhere.’

I nod in answer and allow myself a smile. Thrawn has reacted exactly as I expected him to. He will be there, when I need him.

I repeat my earlier gesture towards the hidden controls. The need for secrecy is done with, for now.

‘Would you stay for dinner, Admiral Thrawn?’ I politely offer. ‘My wife will enjoy hearing about a few of the planets you have explored since we last met.’

From my invitation, anyone eavesdropping and spying will know the Admiral is currently high in my favor. Let them read into it what they will.

‘Of course, my Lord,’ he smoothly accepts, acknowledging that the public political dance has begun once again, ‘and perhaps I might persuade you both to accompany me to the art exhibition which is opening tonight? Venthan Chassu’s Selonian series is being shown on Imperial Center for the first time.’

His favourite Corellian artist, I note, amused, and one who is known for his disturbing imagery. His last work, Palpatine Triumphant, attracted my master’s attention and resulted in the sculptor’s untimely ‘accidental’ death. Fortunately that particular piece is locked away, but I can just imagine my wife’s reaction to seeing a larger than life sized Emperor, enthroned on a pile of bones, with an insane expression on his face.

‘My Lady is not familiar with his work,’ I hint, ‘so it might be wise to give her an explanation of its significance.’ I pause as he joins me in the doorway. ‘I do not think she knows what a Selonian is, either.’

Thrawn doesn’t comment. Maia’s ignorance of what most in the galaxy know and take for granted has come up before. I have always passed it off, truthfully, as a result of her homeworld’s isolation.

***

I look up from the autochef, my hand poised over the start button, when Ani appears, Admiral Thrawn in tow. They don’t head into the Sith Lord’s office, but instead seat themselves at the table. That tells me something unusual is going on.

Ani? I ask, puzzled.

The Admiral is joining us for dinner, he promptly answers, and a private conversation.

I raise an eyebrow. Is he serious? We have never shared one of our family meals with an ‘outsider’ before.

Don’t worry about it, Ani reassures me, just continue as you normally would.

My fingers quickly alter the program, adding what I think will be enough for an extra adult-sized portion. Hopefully Thrawn won’t mind the plain fare I had intended to serve the children.

‘It’s our usual nuna dinner,’ I explain to fill the silence. ‘The children prefer that I keep it simple, and sauces are more work to clean up if there is an accident.’

The Admiral hides his quick smile. I wonder if he has a family. There have been times he has made mention of Chiss customs regarding their children, and his occasional reactions to the antics of my own three suggests he is more than familiar with the mischief youngsters get into.

Turning to open the cupboard, I take a fifth place setting out and lay it in front of Thrawn. Another quick trip, and I have filled his glass with the Endrolian ground-apple juice I had selected for the children. If he wants something stronger, my husband will have to go find it for him. The Admiral sips at his drink, then nods in approval. Somehow, I knew he would prefer that to anything alcoholic.

I give Ani another questioning look as I return the juice to the cooling unit. Is he going to remove his mask with the Admiral present? When he indicates I am to leave his supplement where it is, I know that he intends to leave it on. I guess Thrawn hasn’t earned that degree of trust from him yet.

An insistent chiming tells me that dinner is ready.

‘Mikal! Shmi! Cat!’ I call to my three children, who had been quietly playing in their room. ‘Time to eat!’

My son is the first to appear. He gives Thrawn no more than a cursory examination before climbing into his chair. The twins are slower. They have met the Admiral before, when they were younger, but he hasn’t seen them in months. Unlike their brother, they stop and stare, unsure what his presence means.

‘Come here, Shmi,’ I hear Ani say as I open the autochef.

He’ll put her in the chair next to his own and well away from Thrawn. ‘Mi has a tendency to act up whenever her routine is disrupted, and being near daddy will hopefully dampen some of her high spirits.

I set the first dish down on the table and go to fetch the others. Cat is fussing a bit. She wants to be alongside both her father and I, but to keep our youngest in line, it’s best to put Shmi between us.

‘I’ll sit beside Shmi and Cat,’ I decide.

That will put Thrawn in the middle, between Mikal and Ani. There’s less risk for something to happen that way, like one of the girls dumping her plate onto his lap. Thankfully Mikal has outgrown the playing with his food phase.

Taking my seat, I give what I have prepared a quick inspection. It’s okay, I guess, but given that I had no notice I would have company for dinner, Thrawn shouldn’t expect a gourmet feast. My estimate was off, though. There is far more on the table than what we could possibly eat.

‘Serve yourself, Admiral,’ I suggest. ‘We won’t be able to finish it all, so take as much as you like.’

I wait until he has filled his plate, then look after the children before myself. For a few minutes, we eat in silence. Thrawn has impeccable table manners, I note. Even when Shmi gets bored and starts pushing her kibla greens around her plate, he doesn’t comment and merely looks amused.

‘Shmi,’ I warn.

The offending vegetables are promptly dumped onto the floor. I let out a sigh and bend over to pick them up. A sharp kick to my ribs stops me and forces a gasp.

‘Maia?’ Ani asks, concerned and reaching over to me.

‘Son number two,’ I admit as I straighten up with his aid. ‘He’s busy again.’

‘Let me help,’ he offers, taking the hand I had set over my middle, resting his own above it and our son.

Thrawn watches Ani quiet our child, a curious expression on his face. I suspect he knows my husband is using the Force in some way, but doesn’t want to appear rude by asking. Once someone is behaving again, I retrieve the greens from the floor and begin clearing the table. Dessert soon replaces the nuna.

‘Uj’alayi,’ the Admiral identifies the cake I had made earlier. ‘A Mandalorian sweet.’

I blush a little bit. Cyran had suggested I try making Uj cake as a healthy way to satisfy my sweet tooth. It’s mostly made from crushed nuts, fruit puree, syrup, and spices. Mikal and the twins had great fun squishing the dricklefruit for me this morning, too.

Ani lets out a low chuckle and somehow resists teasing me. He knows I have sugar cravings when I am pregnant and tends to bug me about them whenever the opportunity arises.

‘It’s my first attempt at making it,’ I admit as I cut a few small pieces, ‘so if it’s inedible, don’t eat it.’

Thrawn heeds my warning and cautiously chews his first bite. From how fast Mikal’s piece disappears, and how quickly he holds his plate out for a second, I know edibility is not an issue.

‘More mommy? Please?’ he politely asks.

‘One piece more, then I want you to go play with your sisters,’ I tell him.

I have had the feeling during dinner that Thrawn has wanted to say something to me, but has held off, preferring to wait until the children have finished and are gone. As soon as they have run back to their room, abandoning the remnants of their desserts, he leans forward, rests his elbows on the table and steeples his hands. His eyes meet mine before he glances over at Ani, seeking permission to speak, I guess.

‘I made a similar offer to the one I want to discuss with you, once before, to your husband, Lady Vader,’ the Admiral begins in a rather formal manner.

Ani? I prod, completely at a loss for what Thrawn is referring to.

Wait and hear him out, the Sith Lord advises.

My bewilderment must show, since the Admiral looks at Ani again.

‘An explanation, first, then,’ he decides.

I nod in agreement.

‘Among the Chiss, rivalries between the ruling families can be deadly,’ he reveals, ‘and it is not unusual for an entire bloodline to be destroyed as a result. Our society has a means to prevent this from happening.’ He pauses, watching for my reaction. ‘We hide one, sometimes two, of our children - foster them with a family we trust, and give them a false identity.’

I bite my lip. I know what he is going to suggest.

‘The Imperial Court can be just as deadly,’ the Sith Lord reminds me.

My eyes shut as I shake my head. I don’t want to hear this.

‘My wife is a member of the Eighth Ruling family, the Mithh,’ he states. ‘She and her relatives are prepared to foster one or two of your children in return for your doing the same for the youngest of our two sons.’

I drop my fork in surprise. He’s married? With kids? Really? This is news to me. And from Ani’s startled inhalation, I can tell he had no idea Thrawn was going to make this type of proposal.

‘No,’ I blurt out my initial, instinctive response. ‘They are too young.’

My husband takes my hand and gives it a warning squeeze. I instantly shut up. There’s more to this than what I am aware of and he doesn’t want me to cause a rift between the Admiral and himself.

Thrawn is not offering this lightly, he scolds me. Chiss are extremely secretive. To admit he needs help guarding his own family, and persuading his wife and in-laws to extend their protection has cost him a great deal.

‘Of course they are too young right now,’ the Sith Lord smoothly covers my inadvertent gaffe. ‘I will send my eldest daughter to Csilla for fostering in a year, and later, one of the two sons who will be born after my second one. It should be simple enough to stage ‘accidents,’ and have them disappear. The adoption of an ‘orphaned’ Chiss child after that should not raise undue alarm.’

I force myself to stay silent and unmoving as Ani decides the future of two of our children.

When we are alone, Ani, I growl at him, I intend to let you know exactly what I think of this.

Political expediency, he tells me, attempting to placate me. I cannot afford to offend the Admiral, and plans can always be changed.

I pull my hand out of my husband’s and return my attention to Thrawn. Outwardly, he shows no sign that my reaction and refusal has disturbed him, but I can sense that he is rather worried. For him to make such an offer, volunteer to send one of his children to us, when he is obviously reluctant to do so, says a great deal about what is happening on his homeworld.

Neither of us is willing to send our youngsters away, I realize as I meet the Admiral’s concerned eyes, but we are not in a position where we have many alternatives for protecting them, either. Locking Mikal and his siblings away from the world is not an option.

‘If I could send them to my family instead,’ I admit, ‘I would, but that is impossible.’

‘They will be treated as if they were my own,’ he reassures me.

I smile in reply. If his personality holds true, I expect Thrawn is very much the same as Ani is in regard to his children. Overprotective to a certain extent, yet doting when out of the public eye. There is probably not a better candidate for a foster father.

I want to meet his family before we do anything more than talk about this, I warn Ani. If they are unsuitable, my answer will be ‘no.’

Thrawn muses, ‘My youngest will be born in the next month. Chiss mature far faster than humans, so in two years, I think, we will exchange your daughter for him.’

He’s giving me another year with Cat. I look over at Ani, expecting some sort of argument from my husband, but there is none. There is an advantage in delaying this as long as possible, I have to admit.

Much can change in two years.

Or in a month, the Sith Lord adds to my thought.

Or a day, I tease.

Very true.

‘Once my wife has had a chance to meet your family, we will discuss this again,’ Ani decides. ‘There is no need to rush.’

An agreement in principle. I can live with that. Apparently Thrawn can as well since he stands, offers his arm, and allows Ani to clasp it in acceptance, before resuming his seat. I can feel his relief that his proposal wasn’t rejected outright.

‘Now about that art exhibit,’ my husband abruptly changes the topic.

‘Art exhibit?’ I echo, puzzled. ‘Were we supposed to go to one tonight?’

***

I wait for Maia outside the closed doors of my quarters. She will be quick to get changed, so I will only have a few minutes to speak with Thrawn.

‘Your Lady does not want to foster your children out,’ he shrewdly observes, ‘and would prefer to abandon the idea completely.’

‘It is in accordance with her nature,’ I reply, amused. ‘She guards our younglings like a mother sabercat. If she had reacted in any other way, I would have been far more surprised.’

‘You once mentioned fostering was an old custom of the noble houses on her homeworld,’ he reminds me, ‘so I thought there would be no objections on her part.’

‘Give her time,’ I suggest. ‘Practical arguments always win where she is concerned.’

The door slides open, revealing my wife in one of her simpler gowns, a necklace of green stones about her neck and matching ones twisted through her braided hair. She’s made no attempt to disguise her pregnancy since she is far too big to easily conceal that under her clothes. When she takes my arm, she leans on it a little for support.

‘We won’t stay long,’ I decide as I guide her to the castle’s hangar. ‘Once you have had a quick look, I will bring you home.’

Her fingers grip my bicep in answer. She’s going for the sake of show, for my benefit, not because she really wants to. I settle her into the back of the air speeder and pause while Thrawn climbs into the co-pilot’s seat beside me. Etiquette demands that he not be alone with my wife, so I close the cover over us and touch the controls.

The Coruscant Museum of Galactic Cultures, where the exhibit is being held, is only a few minutes away and traffic is light. When we arrive, I gently set the speeder down and help Maia from it. She is shakier on her feet than I like, so I make sure I walk slowly and keep my arm at her waist.

Fortunately, the usual contingent of paparazzi are absent.

Unfortunately, Xizor is here.

I let out an infuriated hiss. Thrawn glances back at me but does not ask what prompted my reaction. My hatred of the Falleen has become common knowledge, and the Admiral is intimately familiar with why I despise Xizor.

A group of jewelled and gowned socialites pass between the Falleen and I, hiding him for a moment. When they move on, he is no longer in view. Good, I think, hopefully he has left.

‘Ani?’ Maia whispers to me. ‘I don’t feel very well.’

‘There’s a place inside where you can sit down,’ I tell her.

I have been to this Museum before. The lobby contains a number of comfortable benches, so I steer her to one. While she recovers from her dizzy spell, I look around for an exhibition datapad to commandeer. Thrawn has already gone ahead, into the gallery, and must have picked up one from the admission’s desk. A dark haired woman wearing an expensive gown wanders by with a datapad in her hand, so I decide to save myself some time.

‘’Your datapad,’ I demand, without bothering to be polite about it.

She stops and stares at my wife and I. Her mouth opens, then shuts, and I can tell she doesn’t want to give it to me.

‘Now, if you would be so kind,’ I prompt, holding my hand out to accept it from her.

‘My lord, there are others,’ she tries to deflect me.

This time I don’t ask - I simply take it from her fingers before she can stop me.

‘Then I would suggest you go find yourself a replacement,’ I brush her off.

‘Shas?’ I hear Maia call from behind me.

The woman grows pale and backs away. I turn to see my wife struggle to her feet and try to follow her. Maia manages only two steps before she falls into my arms. I pick her up, lay her down on the bench, pull off a glove, and set my hand against her hot forehead.

‘You are running quite a fever,’ I chastise her. ‘When did this start? Before we left?’

Maia ignores me and I see her eyes searching the lobby for someone.

‘I know that voice,’ she admits. ‘That was Shas, the woman whose speeder I fell into.’

‘That was more than two years ago,’ I remind her. ‘How can you be so sure?’

My wife gives me an exasperated look, so I decide to humor her.

‘Very well, that was Shas,’ I tease. ‘So what am I to do, now? Track her down and arrest her as a rebel spy?’

Her eyes close and I know that Maia is in no condition to argue with me. Shas has disappeared, fading into the crowd, and is probably on the run, if Maia’s identification of the woman is correct. I beckon one of the Museum’s uniformed staff over to me. He can go inform Thrawn I have returned home.

‘My wife is ill,’ I tell him. ‘Admiral Thrawn, the officer who arrived with me, needs to be notified that he will have to make his own way home tonight. Go and see to that immediately.’

Ignoring the other museum patrons who have come over to see what the fuss is about, I lift Maia in my arms and carry her back to the speeder. She is asleep when we reach my castle and barely rouses when Leanan comes to our bedroom to examine her.

‘Hesken Fever,’ the doctor announces once she has emptied a hypospray into Maia’s arm. ‘It’s rampant in the population at the moment. She probably caught it from Daini who is also sick. This should bring her temperature down. Keep her quiet for a few days and she’ll be fine.’

I rest my hand lightly on Maia’s forehead, then yank it back when I see that I am being watched. Leanan says nothing more, so I dismiss her with a wave. Tonight I do not feel like trading barbs with the doctor, amusing as that can be.

The datapad I had taken from Shas is in my office, sitting on my desk, waiting to be checked. After the children are asleep, I will spend the rest of the evening searching it for hidden files. If there is anything incriminating in it, I will find it. Then, I will have to track down its former owner.

***

Imperial Center, Coruscant, Core Worlds, Year 3, Month 10.

DAY 2

***

I casually remove part of the dueling ‘droids shoulder with my saber and ignore the sound of the severed metal hitting the floor. It is becoming far too easy to predict their actions.

‘Luke Skywalker has eluded me again,’ I tell my agent who is slouched against the wall. ‘There has been one possible sighting since he last left the rebel fleet and after that - nothing.’

The droid tries another attack which I quickly parry.

‘Stand at attention in my presence, Jix!’ I snap, annoyed by his lack of manners. ‘You are not in one of your seedy dives now!’

‘Apologies,’ he mutters under his breath, but makes no move to straighten up.

‘If you wish to prosper in my employ,’ I admonish him, ‘learn to keep a respectful tongue!’

There is only so much insolence that I will tolerate from him, and Jix keeps deliberately pushing the boundaries. To prompt a better response, I use the Force to brush a warning against his throat.

‘I said sorry!’ he does his best to sound apologetic.

‘Now you mean it!’ I observe, amused, before I turn my attention back to the droid.

‘What is it you want me to do, Lord Vader?’ Jix asks at last.

He knows I only summon him when there is business to attend to.

‘The bounty hunter, Boba Fett, has not yet delivered Solo to Jabba the Hutt on Tatooine,’ I reveal. ‘When he does, his friend Skywalker will no doubt attempt to rescue him.’

My son is very much like I was at his age. Just like at Bespin, he won’t be able to resist going to the aid of his friend. I take another swing at the droid, severing the arm holding the saber this time.

‘The Hutt is not to be trusted to carry out my bidding,’ I state. ‘I require my own agent in his camp.’

Jabba is moody, driven by his baser emotions and greed. He cannot be relied on for anything. If he takes offense at Luke’s rescue attempt, my son could find himself in a great deal of trouble. Jix can go keep an eye on things and intervene if necessary.

‘Ahh! So I go to work for the fat guy?’ he quickly realizes what want him to do. ‘I’ve worked for worse. Not much worse, though ...’

I interrupt his reply by taking the droid’s other arm off.

‘Your best course is to insinuate yourself into the Hutt’s swoop gang,’ I suggest. ‘By all accounts they’re an undisciplined, foul-mannered band of renegades and criminals.’

My next strike decapitates the droid.

‘You should find many like minds,’ I can’t resist getting in a barb.

For a moment I flex my right arm. The light sparring and forms I have been using to keep Maia in shape haven’t taxed it much, but this bout with the dueling droid has. The injury Luke gave me on Bespin hasn’t acted up too badly, yet the increased exercise has made it ache a little.

‘The arm has healed well,’ I quietly note.

My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Lieutenant Jir.

‘My Lord, Prince Xizor will be here shortly for your meeting,’ he reminds me.

‘I had not forgotten,’ I answer, dismissing him with a wave as I turn off my lightsaber.

No, I haven’t forgotten what I have been putting off for weeks, using Maia’s health as an excuse to avoid it. Now, the situation is at a critical point and I have no choice but to deal with the Falleen. If I don’t, my master will surely do something about it.

‘A ship is waiting to take you to Tatooine. You will find everything you need aboard. Keep me informed,’ I give Jix his orders. ‘If Skywalker turns up, I want him captured alive.’

‘That might not be easy,’ my agent grumbles a bit.

‘Do not fail me! You have your orders!’ I warn, pointing my finger directly at him. ‘I know you, Jix. No mistakes on this. If Skywalker dies, you die!’

This is one threat I will carry out, and Jix knows it. For once there are no smart remarks or teasing comments, only a snapped salute before he heads to the hangar. He was uneasy during our meeting, I note with a smile. Having the Noghri hide in the shadows must have unnerved him a little.

I ignite my saber again, quickly dispatch the next droid, then shut it off again to consider what else I must do. My spies have told me Jabba has been in close communication with Xizor this last week. The Hutt is not to be trusted where my son is concerned, and his consorting with the Falleen is a dangerous sign. It would be wise to have a back-up plan in place just in case Jix runs into trouble. A few Noghri disguised as Jawas won’t draw any attention, and Maia’s bodyguard could use sometime in the field.

‘Kohvrekhar,’ I call to the senior-most of the Noghri.

‘Yes, Lord Vader,’ he answers from the shadows.

‘Prepare your team to travel to Tatooine,’ I order. ‘You know what to do if Jix fails.’

‘Yes, Lord Vader,’ he confirms what I had discussed with him earlier. ‘Protect the one named Skywalker, even if it requires us to dispatch several of Jabba’s followers. Or Jix.’

‘Correct. You are dismissed,’ I tell him, turning away to head out of the salle for my meeting. ‘On your way out, summon your clan-brother. I have other contingencies to plan with him.’

With one of them away, I will need to rearrange my wife’s security.

***

I lead Mikal and the twins towards the conservatory, intending to let them have some playtime where they can run around without disturbing anyone. As we move through the public area of Ani’s castle, I spot an unexpected, unwelcome visitor.

Xizor.

Here, alone.

I freeze in place and stare for a few seconds. What is he doing here? Given his rivalry with and hatred of my husband, he can only be up to some sort of mischief. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to see me and steps out of my sight into the public meeting room.

There is definitely something going on between the Sith Lord and the crime boss. A shiver goes up my spine before I can stop it. Events are being put into motion - events I once knew something about but can no longer recall.

‘Cyran,’ I call to my aide. ‘Take the children and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.’

I need to find out what is going on.

***

To my surprise, I see my wife waiting for me by the public meeting room. She has her arms wrapped around her and is staring at the closed door, shivering.

Assuming the worst, I immediately go to her.

‘Maia?’ I ask. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Xizor,’ she whispers.

‘Did he say something to upset you?’ I question, my anger rising. ‘Did he touch you?’

If he has, I will kill him right now, and in the most painful way I can come up with, regardless of my master’s wishes.

She shakes her head ‘no’ as I take her into my arms but her eyes don’t leave the door.

‘He’s going to do something to you, I just know it,’ she confesses.

‘He can try,’ I reply, amused, ‘but he won’t succeed.’

My words don’t comfort her at all. I run my fingers down her cheek in an attempt to soothe her and hold her close.

‘Your odd memories?’ I gently prompt. ‘Something has come back to you again?’

A nod against my chest this time. So, she has a sense of some danger to me which involves Xizor, but no specifics. How frustrating for both of us.

‘It’s just a quick meeting about some business for the Emperor,’ I reassure her. ‘There’s nothing dangerous about that, and I will be careful. Go see to the children. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.’

She rather reluctantly slips out of my grasp and I see my wife’s worried glances over her shoulder as she walks down the corridor. Lately, her peculiar knowledge of my past and future has been returning in unpredictable flashes and bursts. Two nights ago she woke from a nightmare, screaming and hysterical, and was able to describe what happened to me on Mustafar after Obi-Wan left me to die. I quickly blunted that memory for her, shoving it out of her conscious mind. Living through it once myself was bad enough without allowing it haunt her dreams, too.

I touch the door controls and step into the meeting room. It’s rather bare - a polished greel wood table and chairs, holoplate and viewer - compared with what I could have but I see no reason to put on a conspicuous display of my wealth. Anyone who comes here knows who I am and exactly what my resources are.

Xizor is seated comfortably in one of the chairs, leaning back lazily with his legs stretched comfortably out in front of him. He’s been monitored constantly so if I want to know what he has done while waiting for me, I can go review the recordings.

He sees me, stands, and offers a polite military bow.

‘Lord Vader,’ he addresses me.

‘Prince Xizor,’ I respond but don’t return the rest of his greeting.

A Sith Lord does not bend his knee to anyone but his master.

Or his wife, I note, amused, as I remember my proposal on Naboo.

‘You asked to see me, Lord Vader. How may I be of service to you?’ he states, remaining standing.

I step into the room and pause while the door closes behind me.

‘My master bids me to arrange for a fleet of your cargo ships to deliver supplies to our bases on the Rim,’ I reveal my orders.

‘But of course,’ he readily agrees. ‘My entire operation is at your disposal. I am always happy to aid the Empire in any way I can.’

He is busy trying to look good for the holocams, but I know his legitimate shipping business is funded by Black Sun’s illicit dealings.

‘In the past it seems as if your company has been slow to respond to Imperial requests,’ I take a jab at him.

‘It embarrasses me to say that you are correct,’ Xizor admits. ‘Certain individuals who worked for me were lax. However, those individuals are no longer employed in my company.’

They were probably mixed into some duracrete and are now part of several construction projects, I decide. That’s his favourite way to dispose of those who cause him problems.

‘We will need three hundred ships,’ I tell him, ‘Half of them tankers, half dry cargo transports. Standard Imperial Delivery contracts. There is a large ...’ I pause a moment, certain he is aware of why so many are required. ‘...construction project of which you are aware. Can you supply the vessels?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ he replies. ‘You need but tell me where and when you desire them and I will make it so. And Imperial terms are acceptable.’

I stare at him, surprised. Imperial contracts pay less than what his company normally charges. I fully expected him to argue about how many ships and haggle over their price, too.

‘Very well,’ I concur. ‘I’ll have the fleet supply admiral contact you with the details.’

‘It is my honor to serve,’ he responds with a slightly lower military bow than before.

I don’t waste any more of my time on him, turn and leave the room. My master has the shipping agreement he wanted and I prefer to be elsewhere.

***

I look up when I hear Ani’s breathing and let out a sigh of relief. Whatever business he was up to with Xizor, my husband has obviously emerged unscathed.

‘Daddy!’ Shmi happily cries as she makes her way over to him.

My mouth twitches, so I give up trying to hide a smile as the Sith Lord picks up his daughter and carries her to where I am sitting. I fully understand why it was Cat he decided to foster out with Admiral Thrawn’s family when she is old enough. Our youngest is definitely ‘his girl.’

I look over at Mikal and his other sister. They are busy watching the fish eat their dinner while Cyran trickles crumbs into the water. After my son dumped most of a box of fish food in, I don’t let him do that simple chore any more.

Ani takes a spot beside me on the bench, setting Shmi down so she can go play with her siblings. His fingers quickly find mine as he takes my hand and gently holds it.

We could sneak away for a while, he suggests, and let Cyran mind the children for you.

I squeeze his hand in an affirmative and wait to be helped to my feet. Cyran gives Shmi a few crumbs to feed the fish and acknowledges our departure with a nod. She probably suspects Ani needs to speak with me in private since we rarely interrupt our afternoon family gathering unless something important has come up.

The Sith Lord doesn’t say anything until we are safely in our private quarters, away from any possibility of prying ears or eyes.

‘I’ve sent Kohvrekhar on a covert operation,’ he tells me, ‘so you will have only one Noghri on your staff in the interim.’

I refrain from asking what my body guard is looking after for him and why he is the one Ani is using to do it. My husband won’t tell me anyway.

‘You could have told me that without coming down here,’ I note.

Ani is up to something.

***

‘I know that,’ I admit, amused, ‘but I wanted to spend some time alone with you.’

I reach over and touch her face, feel her smile against my hand once she realizes what I intend. It’s difficult to find time for ourselves during the day, with the children to mind on her part and ‘work’ related errands on mine.

The door shuts behind us and I guide her into the bedroom, my arm at her waist, as the air pressurizes. She seats herself on the bed, waiting patiently for my helmet to be lifted away. I set the face mask aside at last, unhook my cloak and let it fall to the floor. There’s time to remove my armour, so I do so, all the while watching my wife look at me.

How shy she once was. At first she wouldn’t even stay in the same room when I stripped everything off. In some ways, I miss that silly innocence of hers.

I leave the black fabric bodysuit on and sit down beside her. She blushes a little when her eyes spot the conspicuous bulge between my legs and quickly looks away. Not all of that shyness is gone, I note with a low chuckle.

I turn her face back to mine with a light touch of my hand and gently press my lips to hers. She lets me take the lead, as she usually does. Rarely has she ever done so. My dominance in this aspect of our relationship has always been obvious. I run my tongue over her lips, demanding entry which she doesn’t deny to me.

How sweet she tastes, I decide, as I ease her backwards, sliding my hands down her body once she is flat on the sheets. Her curves are familiar ones, and every inch of her is well known territory. I pull back, look into her now flushed face. My wife’s eyes are slightly closed, her breathing faster than normal. She’s ready for me, but I want to enjoy this as long as I can.

My hands slowly open the buttons in front, loosening her dress and freeing her breasts. They are growing large again but haven’t started to fill with milk yet. I gently kiss one, then the other, before settling my lips around the nipple of the right one. A few swirls of my tongue and she begins to moan, so I exert some suction on it.

‘Anakin,’ she cries out as her back arches a little.

I feel her need over our bond. Maia aches for me, wanting me right now, but I intend to resist her for as long as we both can stand it. With my left hand, I slide her dress up and out of my way, pooling the material at her waist. My fingers stroke her, increasing the soft sounds she is making. Her hands grab at the sheets beneath her, twisting them in her grasp.

Time to take my ministrations up another notch.

I remove my fingers and shift about, now using my mouth to produce the desired effect. She’s close, very close, I observe when she raises her hips upwards, urging me on, and my own body begins to yearn for her in reaction to what I am feeling from her.

I deny her once again and change my position, this time resuming the deep kiss I had abandoned earlier. My hands stroke her trembling body, keeping her on that edge, refusing to allow her the release she wants. Divine torment she had once called this.

Her hands slide around my back, digging into my skin and leaving claw marks, as she rips open the back of the bodysuit with her nails and a touch of the Force. I laugh a little at her audacity, breaking our kiss a second time.

‘Aggressive today, are we?’ I tease.

‘Want you now,’ she growls, all propriety lost in her desperate need to be satisfied.

Perhaps I have pushed my wife a bit too far today. I sit back and remove the ruined bodysuit, throwing it on the floor once it is off. My erection finally freed, I move to between her legs, and smile as I look down at her. She reaches to me with her hands, so I take them in mine and slowly push into her.

Even after three children she is still small and tight, and each thrust I make increases my own desire for release, my own torment. Her eyes close and from her moans, I know she is enjoying every second of this. I concentrate on moving gently within her, holding myself back until I sense she is on the brink and I cannot take it any longer myself.

Forgetting everything else, I drive myself into her, hard, several times, my own wants overriding any concerns for my wife. My fingers tighten on hers as I scream her name, feel my body go rigid and spasm in time to her own.

Our souls mesh, and for an instant we are not two separate individuals, but one being drowning in shared pleasure.

Then I am collapsed on top of her, my breathing ragged as I fight the chest box’s programming. I needed that, I decide, needed the relief from stress that sex always gives me. And it has been weeks since we last did this.

My wife is silent and still under me when I sense a flash of confused bewilderment and hurt from her.

She must have picked up on my thoughts, but surely she must know by now that much of our lovemaking is necessitated by my being a Sith Lord. The dark side thrives on unanswered passions, unaddressed desires. If I don’t see to it that mine are met, it will have a far greater hold on me, and I don’t want to run that risk.

‘Maia,’ I softly call her name.

She turns her face aside and doesn’t answer.

I slide off of her and pull her close to my body. Her tears start to soak my chest before I realize what has just happened. She’s seen in my mind why her brother hasn’t been around. Silently I curse our bond for that. Now I will have to deal with her delayed grief when there are other pressing issues I should be seeing to instead.

Rather than try to comfort her with words, I simply hold her, lightly stroke her hair and face, and wait for her weeping to stop so I can speak to her.

Time is the only thing which will heal this wound to her soul.

***

Part 7

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