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"Lord Vader, we've received a communiqué from the Palace--the Emperor commands that you attend a private audience with him following your arrival ceremony tomorrow."
It was Admiral Piett, one of the few officers which Vader trusted...so far.
It was a constant, subtle battle between himself and his Master, as Palpatine carefully placed spies in the senior staff of his Star Destroyer, and Vader constantly found reasons to rid himself of them--permanently.
"Thank you, Admiral," Vader boomed, his annoyance sounding out loud and clear.
Piett bowed carefully and made a hasty retreat, leaving Vader to gaze out of the wide viewport of the Executor's bridge, considering his options.
If he was being allowed to return to Imperial Center, then it was because his son was subdued to some extent. But Vader knew that anyway; Palpatine wasn't the only one with a network of spies. There was, it was whispered, a new presence in Court, always close to the Emperor, always silent, always reclusive. Only Palpatine spoke to him, possessive and watchful, with anyone who attempted to approach him pointedly discouraged. And the boy spoke to no one, detached and distant. He never came from his apartments unless it was to answer the Emperor's command, being seen only in the Throne Room or on his way to the Practice Halls, where he went daily, accompanied to and from both places by four Red Guard, though they were more to discourage interested parties than to control the enigmatic stranger, his sources guessed. There was an edge to him though, Vader's spies reported--a hint of something unstable beneath that insular disposition.
Interestingly, his spies had no name--no idea who the stranger was, extensive though their contacts were.
Vader hadn't bothered to tell them that he knew; better to see what they were fed by the Palace rumor-mill. But he knew the truth--and he thought he knew why the Emperor wanted him back. His new Sith would soon need a test--as Palpatine had once tested Anakin. Turned him on Count Dooku, his previous ally, to rid himself of the complications inherent in having two acolytes serving the same Master.
He remembered with faultless, morbid clarity, holding the sabers crossed at Dooku's throat.
Remembered Palpatine's hissing goad to kill him.
Remembered the bewildered betrayal on Dooku's face.
Vader had always believed absolutely that when he died it would be for his own reasons, not to serve his Master's cold ambitions. Had always sworn that he would never give Palpatine the luxury of such an easy escape. That if his Master wanted to rid himself of Vader, then he would have to face him personally.
Yet he was still returning like a trained dog to his Master's side.
Not because he wanted to face Palpatine...but because he had to see his son again. No matter what, he had to see him.
For what, he didn't know--or rather, he chose not to examine too closely.
He had no idea how much Palpatine had twisted the boy's mind, but he knew that at any point in their stormy association, had Vader put a lightsaber into his son's hand, the boy would surely have struck out against him. It would be no stretch at all for Palpatine to push that emotion into action.
In more lucid moments Vader knew that Palpatine would not simply exchange his loyal vassal's life for a new Sith--or rather, he believed such. But he knew his Master well; knew his confidence and his convictions, knew that he would believe himself beyond the restrictions placed on the Sith in centuries past dictating that there could be only two Sith, Master and apprentice. Which was why he had risked taking the boy to Palpatine in the first place. After two decades of servitude, he knew the Emperor well enough to be willing to take this chance; that Palpatine too would be tempted by the boy's potential. That he'd seek to control him, enticed far more by the lure of raw power than he was shackled by ancient rules and archaic warnings.
He didn't like having been forced to gamble on such, but his son's stubborn refusal of an alliance in Cloud City had forced his hand. If Vader could have turned the boy alone then he would have done so, but such was not his forte. It required the kind of subtle contrivances and scheming manipulations which Vader prided himself on not possessing--and which the Emperor held in abundance.
He'd known, of course, that Palpatine would attempt to prize the boy away from him--had expected no less from the wily old man--but he also knew there was a resonance between himself and his son. And Luke surely felt it too, no matter what he said out loud.
That Palpatine had sent Vader away had been unexpected. He had relied on being there throughout his son's conversion in order to maintain that connection. But even if his Master did think to force a fight, then Vader was confident of his own abilities; he had beaten the boy once. He would have no qualms about bringing the same force to bear again. Though perhaps not quite as vehemently. He had not intended to allow the duel at Bespin to escalate to that degree; had not intended to lose control so completely. Nor had he intended to injure the boy again when he was recaptured onboard the smuggler's ship. But then self-restraint and Darkness were hardly synonymous, and the boy seemed to have some innate ability to get under Vader's skin so completely that all intentions were lost beneath a swell of frustrated enmity.
How he did so with such unerring ease was a mystery--perhaps because they were so similar or, more disturbingly, perhaps because for the first time in memory, Vader actually gave a damn about what someone thought...
That consideration whispered at him for long moments as he resolutely ignored it, dismissing it as irrelevant.
As far as Vader was concerned, the answer to his own inability to maintain any self-control in the presence of his son was obvious; Luke should stop antagonizing him. The boy needed discipline. The notion of Vader himself exercising anything more than the most crucial self-restraint in these confrontations was plainly ludicrous--especially now. Because he knew Luke's potential; that much was crystal clear.
He knew what the boy was capable of, when given a little judicious inducement. Very likely, so did Palpatine...but Vader would make it his mission to ensure that when it came down to a choice, Luke's loyalties would reside with his father. To do that he needed free access to his son, and at present any contact was strictly on Palpatine's terms. But that could be enough. Enough to shepherd the boy, to subtly direct and guide him. Ostensibly to his Master's requirements...privately, to his own.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, some small atom of doubt wormed its way through Vader's thoughts--at how ironic it would be if the boy should now turn on him. If the weapon he had sought to use against his Master, was the weapon that his Master used to destroy Vader himself.
That he would be extinguished by that to which he had given life.
That he should still crave forgiveness from the youth who wished to kill him.
But such fleeting qualms were easily ignored in the face of greater motives. Something resonated now, and it was reducing all of Vader's carefully-laid plans to insignificance. Something deep within... Because this was his son. His son. His flesh and blood. Instinctive connections, no matter how hard they had both tried to deny them. No matter how the Emperor tried to rip and sever them, no matter what he had whispered and twisted.
All of Vader's previous intentions were falling away before this simple fact and everything--everything--was re-focusing about it. Confusing and frustrating and unwelcome as this was.
Everything was changing; every foundation, every belief, every conviction was being tested by his son's very existence.
He'd wanted to convert the boy for the power he embodied, for the opportunity he represented. Before he had seen his son there had been no question, no shadow of doubt as to his role in Vader's greater plan; either he served Vader's purpose or he was removed.