Part II

She was finally ready. But that didn't lessen the writhing, clenching terror in his gut in the slightest. It prickled over his skin; itching, phantom sensations that travelled right down to the tips of his fingers, ghosting over flesh that no longer existed.

He knew she was ready without a doubt. When he tested her mind, no amount of brute force nor sly tendrils of mental focus could breach the barriers he'd taught her to create. He couldn't even find them within her mind, anymore. Not even when he took her by surprise. And he knew they were there. If she chose to hide a memory from him, she doubted he would be able to find it. And when he tried to get a measure of her potential now? It was virtually second nature to her to hide it now. As it needed to be.

Yes. She was ready. Her defenses were strong and clever. More clever than he suspected he'd be capable of himself. Certainly far more subtle.

Hopefully subtle enough to fool his Master.

Palpatine would see what he expected to see. Of that Vader was certain.

Or, as certain as he could be.

Against all effort, he couldn't help but doubt. Should the Emperor choose to dig deeper?

Athara was good, but she would still be no match for the Emperor. Not yet. She was still a child, and though he'd left her to defend her own mind and presence for years already, the Emperor was far craftier and more cunning than he was. He was sly and ruthless and subtle.

Palpatine's talents lay in manipulating the mind; it was how he had orchestrated and schemed and influenced his way to tearing the old order down and replacing it with one of his own design. It was because of his unchallenged skill in knowing and controlling the minds around him that he was now the supreme head of the Galaxy. The Emperor. He was far, far more skilled and cunning at slipping his way into others minds than Vader could ever hope to be, skilled as he knew he had become. It felt a very near thing, some days, when it came to shielding his own traitorous thoughts from his Master, after all. And the Emperor was ruthless even on his most valued and trusted servant.

So naturally, he feared he hadn't done enough.

But what else could he do?

Much as he might be tempted to shield Athara himself, he knew were Palpatine to sense even the faintest trace of Vader's presence in his little apprentice's mind, he would grow suspicious. And if that were to happen? The deception Vader had been weaving for years would unravel with devastating consequences.

The brunt of which would be borne by his precious apprentice.

In a flash of foresight and manipulative instinct that would do Palpatine proud, Vader had set his mind to laying the groundwork for this very meeting almost since he'd found Athara years before. Since before he had even told Palpatine that he'd found her.

Spinning his Master a tale of coming across a young Force-sensitive child on Nubia—not terrible powerful, mind, but with enough potential and spirit to serve a purpose to Vader. Under the guise of full disclosure and unwavering deference to his Master, he'd admitted to feeling it prudent to take the child on as a project, molding an agent of his own with the ability to touch the Force even if she wasn't so powerful as to truly wield it as he or any remaining Jedi could. He'd even confessed that he wanted to do so, using the truth to fuel his lies.

And Palpatine had been amused by the idea of a little so-called 'apprentice' for Vader and intrigued by the idea of an agent trained under Vader's own considerable knowledge.

So with his Master's tacit approval, Vader had collected Athara and hidden her away both on Mustafar and within his expansive quarters aboard the Devastator to begin her training. And Vader had continued to feed his deception for years, venting impatience with the limits to her power and sharing his satisfaction when she proved herself clever and ruthless and proficient in the other lessons he provided just as he'd kept his Master appraised of his 'pet's' progress in general—slow when it came to the Force as it undoubtedly would've been had Athara not possessed the natural strength as she did.

It was a clever and underhanded long-game, if Vader said so himself. It surely would have done Palpatine proud...would he not be furious at Vader for the betrayal of considering orchestrating such a ruse in the first place, of course.

But now Palpatine's patience had reached its limit and his interest in seeing the girl for himself could no longer be deferred. He had known that the day would come when he couldn't hold his Master off anymore, but that didn't mean he was any less apprehensive. He'd delayed as long as he thought wise, making excuses that he wished to ensure the girl was properly prepared—which was true, after a fashion—so as not to embarrass him.

Something, in truth, that Vader rather doubted she was capable of. Not that he'd say it in as many words; overconfidence was a weakness he was well familiar with, and he knew she had a good head as she was, always striving for his approval, making herself stronger as a result. She was clever, quick to learn and almost as stubborn as he had been when he was young. Jealousy flared, sharp and stinging in his chest, but Vader forced it away, irritated.

She was a credit to his tutelage, he thought with pride.

And one day, perhaps, she would help him see Palpatine and his manipulative, corrupt ways destroyed. Then, perhaps, together he and his young apprentice could truly fix the Galaxy, clearing away the impotent, self-serving, festering bureaucracy that was rotting out the Empire from the core. They could bring true change. True, iron-fisted justice to a Galaxy long bereft of strong, decisive leadership.

But first, Athara needed to survive her first venture into his Master's presence. The Darkness in him quivered in anticipation of deceiving Palpatine, whose promises had been hollow and little better than lies. He could see that now. He might owe his loyalty to Palpatine for all that the Sith Lord had done in raising him up and opening his eyes to the follies of the Jedi, in setting him on his true path, but he was no longer blinded by that devotion. The veil had fallen away. And he wasn't even sure Palpatine had realized it yet. That he was no longer the sole owner of Vader's allegiance.

No, his loyalty belonged to his apprentice now, as well. And it was a bond that was undoubtedly stronger. For as Vader was loyal to her, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was unerringly loyal to him. She belonged to Vader in a way Palpatine had always intended Vader to belong to him.

Palpatine was loyal only to himself.

It was a truth Vader had long been privy to. Rage simmered, hot and potent, in the back of his mind at the reminder. Not only that, Palpatine had cost him as much as he'd given him, and Vader would have his vengeance for that.

Embracing it, he used it to flush away the infection of his doubt, burning out his uncertainty that his apprentice would fail.

And it seared away his fear that Palpatine would see through her.

No, she would make it through this. She was strong and determined, his apprentice. She knew the stakes and she had mastered her fear, wrestling it under control.

Oddly enough, encountering Tarkin had reassured him. The abrasive, oily Grand Moff had sparked his young apprentice's temper and her nerve had strengthened whether she'd realized it or not, the hair-thin cracks in her defenses sealing tight and disappearing entirely.

Never had he thought he'd be grateful to an unexpected encounter with Wilhuff Tarkin.

There was a first time for everything, he supposed.

And now she was before his Master, still kneeling at his side, her fear now mingling with stirrings of her temper as Palpatine needled her both with words and the Force. The Darkness within him seemed to nearly snicker in appreciation of her insolence toward his Master, pleased at the annoyance he could sense in Palpatine. It was something he appreciated himself. His little girl was not one to be easily restrained by her fear and that pleased him.

More importantly, Palpatine seemed satisfied with what he was seeing in Athara.

Even if she was verging on trying his patience.

But then words fell from Palpatine's smirking lips that sent a bolt of shock and terror straight through Vader.

"She might make a promising addition to my personal collection of agents."

Vader only barely managed to keep his reaction to himself. Athara didn't appear to notice in her preoccupation with Palpatine. But his Master...

Palpatine's sharp eyes flicked briefly to him, the corner of his lip twitching. Palpatine had sensed it.

And the dread pooling in Vader's gut intensified and congealed into a hard, noxious lump.

His Master now knew just how much Athara had come to mean to him.

What had he just done...

Palpatine turned his attention back to Athara, who was fighting her own surge of fear at the absent comment, chuckling as he did. He was enjoying himself. A chill ran up Vader's spine.

"You would prefer to stay with your Master?" Vader fought not to bristle at his Master's derisive tone, wrestling against his slowly building rage. He would dare take Athara from him, the Darkness in his chest bellowed furiously, a hair-trigger from pushing him to challenge Palpatine, to neutralize the threat to his apprentice.

But he quashed the impulse back, knowing he wouldn't stand a chance against Palpatine. Not anymore.

Not yet.

And Palpatine would kill Athara, just to make a point.

So he redirected the emotion, using it to fuel his own carefully maintained mental shields; that was one weakness of his he knew he could combat, the one weakness he knew that day on Naboo he would absolutely have to eradicate if he was to have any hope of achieving his plans. And with a great deal of work, in that he had succeeded.

It was one feat he knew Palpatine was none the wiser for. And he intended to keep it that way. It was his best hope of protecting his Apprentice. For now.

So he let his irritation simmer on the surface of his mind, refusing to react as Palpatine's probing consciousness skimmed through it with satisfaction.

"Naturally," his Master crooned, his expression bordering on a sneer, "an apprentice is always inclined to give their loyalty to their first Master." As he spoke, Palpatine's sharp gaze once again fixed on Vader.

And Vader's control nearly faltered. It suddenly felt like cold, sharp fingers had closed like a vice around his gut, the feeling so strong it bled through his careful control. Palpatine suspected...no...his feelings quivered at the very idea.

No, Palpatine knew who Athara's father was.

His rage now warred against his fear's icy grip. Fury at himself as he realized his mistake. And it felt like a punch in the gut.

She'd still been Athara Adyé on Nubia.

He'd forgotten the length of Palpatine's reach. He'd foolishly thought it would be enough to keep her family name from his Master... Palpatine's cruel gaze glinted with satisfaction that him subtle message had hit home.

Only for the expression to falter and his eyes to narrow on Athara. The fear clenched tighter as Athara's own flash of fear and anger reached him. This time, when the Emperor spoke, his words were clear and pointed. This time there was no subtext. No hidden messages. No clever twists. Just a simple, direct reminder of their place.

"You may be loyal to my apprentice," he said bluntly, all subtlety discarded. "but do not forget, young Athara Adyé, that you serve my Empire." Had it not been for his vocorder, Vader would've been unable to breathe.

Yes. Palpatine knew. He knew a great deal more than Vader wanted him to know.

How could he have been so irrational to believe otherwise...

But all was not lost, he reminded himself firmly. He was certain Palpatine couldn't sense the full potential hidden within his little apprentice, just as he was certain the calculating light in his Master's eyes meant that the Emperor saw more value in Athara's future at his side than threat.

For now.

He stepped forward, laying a hand on his apprentice's trembling shoulder. He could sense her own feelings building, fear and anger of her own struggling against her control. Now was not the time.

"Yes, My Master," Vader said quietly, responding for them both, despite it very much not being the response he'd prefer to give.

But someday.

Beneath his palm, he felt Athara begin to rein herself back in, his silent reminder to contain herself the nudge she needed.

Yes. Someday, together, he and his apprentice would see the end of the Emperor.

As though in challenge to his silent, secret resolve, Palpatine leaned back, his lips curving into a barely perceptible smirk.

Someday, he reassured himself. Someday.

And until then?

He would protect his apprentice the best way he knew how.

He would teach her everything he could.

And if he could do that?

Beneath his mask, Vader felt his lips curl in a determined grin.

She would survive.

And Palpatine would rue the day he threatened his little girl.

That, Vader would make sure of.

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

Don't forget to vote and comment!