FORSAKEN III - Shadow Wars

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Darth Vader arrived on Coruscant at night and made his way through the vast halls of the Imperial Palace. He hated being there. Every place held a memory of his life as Anakin Skywalker, and any joy drowned in the echoes of the screams of those he butchered during his assault as a newly converted Sith. The lack of activity at night made those shadows loom larger in his soul. He arrived at vaulted door deep within the massive building protected by two Imperial Royal Guards. The Sith Lord entered the chamber unchallenged by the sentries. Inside the chamber lay a single bacta tank filled with a milky substance, blurring the humanoid figure inside, but Vader sensed the Force within him. Six Imperial Royal Guards surrounded the vat and a medical droid monitored the vital signs at a panel in the corner.

Vader's breathing rose over the sounds of the medical instruments. He never thought he would be watching his Master occupy a healing cistern. Whatever Syrran did to him had to be far worse than what he experienced in their duel. Was it all a test? The question haunted Vader's thoughts since he woke up in a bacta tank of his own in the garrison on Mustafar with his cybernetic limbs missing. The Emperor had ordered him to that particular spot with the missive to kill Syrran. Had he managed to kill him, he would have remained by his Master's side, having proven the better warrior. Had Syrran struck him down, he would have become Darth Sidious' new Sith Apprentice. But none of these things happened. The life of a Sith revolved around constant trials, betrayal, secrecy, treachery, and death.

Darth Vader made a fist. It would be so easy to get rid of the Emperor in this state and become the ruler of the galaxy; the sole Dark Lord of the Sith. The idea tempted him, but also terrified Vader. He craved the thrill of combat and the unpredictability of adventure, not the tediousness of politics. Vader knew he had many enemies lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to do away with him at a moment's notice. Death would come from those nearest to him, rather than anyone outside the Imperial bureaucratic machine—the very monster he helped Palpatine usher forth. In many ways, his life depended on the Emperor's.

He opened his hand and left the chamber. While his fortress continued to be constructed, the Sith Lord planned to stay on Coruscant, looking after his Master, until the time came to bring Padmé back from the dead. Then, maybe things would be clearer. If Darth Momin failed again, perhaps Vader would consider crushing the helmet he inhabited, and do away with him once and for all.

Tarkin approached Vader from the other end of the grand hallway. Even to the resolute military man, the sight of the dark lord melting in and out of the shadows through the shaft of light coming through the towering windows, made him take pause. Tarkin had taken it upon himself to bring the Emperor back to the palace in his Star Destroyer. Therefore, he belonged to a small coterie who knew the state of the Emperor. And as the Force would have it, the Grand Moff was probably one of Vader's closest allies.

"Lord Vader," said Tarkin. "I was told you just arrived in the capital. How is the Emperor?"

"He's stable, but weak," said Vader, continuing to walk.

"Will he pull though?" Tarkin kept up with him.

"I'm confident he will. In the meantime, no one must know of his condition."

"Of course, not. I'll take care of the Joint Chiefs, and Mas Amedda and Sly Moore will keep the Imperial Ruling Council under control. With a little luck, no one should be wiser that the Emperor is indisposed; especially thanks to his majesty's aversion to public life."

"Good. I will stay in the capital to ensure the Emperor's safety."

"That will not be necessary, Lord Vader."

"I insist."

"Very well. What about the Jedi? They managed to escape Mustafar and now we're certain they're working with an insurgence group. If the surviving members of the order organize—"