Vader said nothing.
“Come, Darth Vader, you of all people should accept that some are born for greatness. That some are larger than life.”
Vader remained silent.
“Yes, Lord Vader—Tarkin.” Sidious softened his tone. “You are a true Sith, Lord Vader. Your dedication is unerring and your powers unparalleled. Perhaps, however, you are under the misimpression that only Sith and Jedi have trials to pass.”
“What trials has Governor Tarkin passed?”
“Have you never been to Eriadu?”
“I have.”
“Then you know what that world is like. Venture outside the safe haven of Eriadu City and the land is every bit as bleak and hostile as Tatooine. That land forged Tarkin in much the same way Tatooine forged you.”
Vader shook his head. “Tatooine did not forge me.”
Sidious stared at him, then grinned faintly. “Ah, I see. Slavery and the desert forged Skywalker. Is that what you mean?”
Vader left the question unanswered. “What trials did Tarkin endure?”
Sidious took a long moment to respond. “Trials that helped transform him into the military mastermind he has become.”
Vader was silent for a moment. Then he said, “We will go to Murkhana, Master, as you command.”
Sidious tilted his head to regard Vader. “Sometimes there is more to be gained by stepping into a trap than by avoiding it. Particularly when you’re interested in learning who set it.”
“Are you suggesting that Murkhana is a trap?”
“I’m suggesting that you pay close attention to what you and Moff Tarkin uncover there. Getting to the heart of this matter may require us to peel away layer upon layer of purpose.”
Vader bowed his head in a gesture of obedience.
Sidious pressed the tips of his fingers together. “Do you know why Tarkin’s ship is named the Carrion Spike?”
“I do not, Master.”
Sidious looked past Vader to the darkening sky. “You should ask him.”
On being informed of the Murkhana mission by Mas Amedda, Tarkin had contacted Commander Cassel to say that he would be delayed in returning to Sentinel Base, and had sent everyone but the Carrion Spike’s captain and communications officer back to the moon. For the moment, the crew would be limited to the dozen stormtroopers Vader had handpicked to accompany them. Amedda hadn’t said whether he or Vader had command of the mission, and Tarkin was trying to puzzle that out on his own. Vader held an invisible rank. But the Carrion Spike was Tarkin’s ship, which gave him authority. Tarkin was also a Moff, but the title alone didn’t grant him jurisdiction in the sector to which Murkhana belonged. Disdain crept into his thoughts. That Vader was a Sith shouldn’t factor into the question of authority, and yet how could Vader’s dark side powers and crimson lightsaber not factor into the matter?
The whole business had the taint of politics.
Twenty years earlier, Tarkin had been on a career track to be appointed provost marshal of the Judicial Department when he resigned his rank and position. Coruscant at the time had been in the throes of an economic upswing for those senators, lobbyists, and entrepreneurs who had placed themselves at the service of the galactic industrial conglomerates. Availing itself of loopholes built into the free trade zone legislation, the monolithic Trade Federation was expanding its reach into the Outer Rim, as well as its influence in the Republic Senate. Against expectation, Finis Valorum’s supporters had managed to secure his reelection to the Republic chancellery, but Valorum was scarcely a year into his second term when the citizens of Coruscant began to place bets on whether he would be able to hold on to his office. Palpatine’s name was already being whispered as someone who might replace Valorum as Supreme Chancellor.
Tarkin and Palpatine had had only sporadic in-person contact during the years of Tarkin’s service with the Judicials, but they had been faithful correspondents, and Palpatine had remained a staunch supporter of legislation that benefited Eriadu and the Seswenna sector. When Tarkin asked to meet with him on Coruscant, Palpatine made the travel arrangements. Tarkin was one of few people to be on a first-name basis with the senator, but out of respect for his elder and mentor of a sort, he most often referred to him by his title.
“You need a new battlefield,” Palpatine said after he had listened in silence to Tarkin’s tale of disillusionment. “I sensed from the moment we met that the Judicial Department was too insular to contain a man of your talents — despite your having garnered a following superseding the one you attained at Sullust.”
They were sitting in stylish chairs in the senator’s red-roomed apartment in one of Coruscant’s most prestigious buildings.
“The Judicials are at the end of their tenure, in any case, as the Jedi seem to have become the Senate’s arbiters of choice.” Palpatine shook his head ruefully. “The Order has been given approval to intercede in matters it normally would have avoided. But complicated times beget wrongheaded decisions.” He blew out his breath and looked at Tarkin. “As I told you so many years ago at Sullust, Eriadu will always be a Tarkin world, no matter who resides in the governor’s mansion. Now more than ever, your homeworld needs the guidance of a leader who is astute in both politics and galactic economics.”
“Why now?” Tarkin asked.
“Because something dangerous is brewing in our little corner of the Outer Rim. Discontent is on the rise, as are criminal enterprises and mercenary groups in the employ of self-serving corporations. In the Seswenna sector, several lommite mining concerns are vying for the attention of the Trade Federation, which is determined to forge a monopoly in the free trade zones. Even on my own Naboo, the king finds himself embroiled with the Trade Federation and off world bankers with regard to our plasma exports.”
Palpatine held Tarkin’s gaze. “Ours are remote worlds, but what transpires in those sectors of the Outer Rim could very well have galactic repercussions. Eriadu needs you, and, perhaps more to the point, we need someone like you on Eriadu.”
Palpatine’s use of the plural was more than an affectation, and yet as close as their relationship had become, the senator never spoke in detail of those like-minded friends and allies he frequently alluded to. Not that that had kept his political opponents from speculating. Aside from the cabal of senators with whom he was often grouped — along with a following of devoted aides who had followed him from Naboo — Palpatine was rumored to have wide-ranging links to a host of shadowy beings and clandestine organizations that included bankers, financiers, and industrialists representing the most important sectors of the galaxy.
“I’ve been away from Eriadu for many years,” Tarkin said. “The Valorum dynasty enjoys an influential presence there, and a political victory by me can hardly be assured. Especially given what happened on Coruscant.”
Palpatine waved his thin hand in negligence and what seemed annoyance. “Valorum didn’t win the election; he was merely allowed to win. The Senate’s special-interest groups require a chancellor who can be easily entangled in bureaucratic doubletalk and arcane procedure. That is how loopholes are maintained and illegalities overlooked. But as regards your doubts, we have sufficient funds to counter the Valorums and guarantee your victory.” He fixed Tarkin with a gimlet stare. “Perhaps you and I could serve each other, as well as the Republic, by taking Valorum down a notch.” His shoulders heaved in a shrug of uncertainty. “With the backing of your family, you may not even need our help, but rest assured that we will bolster you if necessary.” Palpatine quirked a sly smile. “You will be Eriadu’s finest leader, Wilhuff.”