A half-life-size holoimage of Wilhuff Tarkin shone from one of the cone-shaped holoprojectors that studded the lustrous floor of the throne room.

“The planet suffered more damage than I might have anticipated,” the Moff was saying, “especially given the military resources I placed at Lord Vader’s disposal. Although I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by the Wookiees’ intractability.”

The Emperor gestured negligently. “What is one world, more or less, when the galaxy is being reordered?”

Tarkin took a moment to reply. “I will bear that in mind, my lord.”

“What of the Wookiees themselves?”

“Some two hundred thousand were rounded up and placed in containment camps on the Wawaatt Archipelago.”

“Can you accommodate that many?”

“We could accommodate twice that number.”

“I see,” the Emperor said. “Then you have my permission to transport the slaves to the weapon.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Be certain to inform the regional governor of your activities, but make no mention of the Wookiees’ final destination. Oh, and see to it, Moff Tarkin, that you cover your tracks well. Questions are already being asked.” The Emperor paused, then leaned forward to add: “I don’t want any problems.”

Tarkin inclined his head in a bow. “I appreciate the need for utmost secrecy, my lord.”

“Good.” The Emperor sat back. “And, tell me, what is your opinion of Lord Vader’s handling of the occupation of Kashyyyk?”

“He proved very capable, my lord. No one involved in the operation will soon forget his … sense of commitment, shall we say?”

“Do the fleet commanders concur with your assessment?”

Tarkin stroked his high-cheekboned face. “May I speak candidly?”

“I suggest you make it a practice, Moff Tarkin.”

“The commanders are not pleased. They don’t know who Lord Vader is under his mask and armor. They have no inkling of the true extent of his power, or how he came to be your liaison with the regional governors and the fledgling Imperial Navy. There are rumors, my lord.”

“Continue to speak freely.”

“Some are convinced that Lord Vader is a former Jedi who assisted you in your counterstrike against the order. Others believe that he was an apprentice of the late Count Dooku.”

“Who is spreading these rumors?”

“From what I have been able to ascertain, the rumors began among the special ops legions that attacked and secured the Jedi Temple. If you wish, my lord, I could pursue the matter further.”

“No, Tarkin,” the Emperor said. “Let the rumors persist. And let the regional governors and naval officers think what they will of Lord Vader. His identity shouldn’t concern them. I am interested only in their obeying his commands, as they would mine.”

“If nothing else, my lord, they understand that much. Word of what happened at Kashyyyk is spreading quickly through the ranks.”

“As I knew it would.”

Tarkin nodded. “My lord, I wonder if I might call on Lord Vader’s … expertise from time to time, if only in the interest of enhancing his reputation among the fleet commanders.”

“You may, indeed. Both you and Lord Vader will profit from such a partnership. When the battle station is completed, your responsibilities will be manifold. Lord Vader will relieve you of the need to oversee every matter personally.”

“I look forward to that day, my lord.” Tarkin bowed once more, and the holoimage disappeared.

Sidious was pleased. Vader had done well. He had sensed the change in him, even in the brief conversation they had had following the events on Kashyyyk. Now that Vader had begun to tap deeply into the power of the dark side, his true apprenticeship could begin. The Jedi were incidental to him. He was covetous of the power Sidious wielded, and believed that one day they would be equals.

You must begin by gaining power over yourself; then another; then a group, an order, a world, a species, a group of species … finally, the galaxy itself.

Sidious could still hear Darth Plagueis lecturing him.

Envy, hatred, betrayal … They were essential to mastering the dark side, but only as a means of distancing oneself from all common notions of morality in the interest of a higher goal. Only when Sidious had understood this fully had he acted on it, killing his Master while he slept.

Unlike Plagueis, Sidious knew better than to sleep.

More important, by the time Vader was capable of becoming a risk to his Mastery, Sidious would be fully conversant with the secrets Plagueis had spent a lifetime seeking—the power of life over death. There would be no need to fear Vader. No real reason to have an apprentice, except to honor the tradition Darth Bane had resurrected a millennium earlier.

The ancient Sith had been utter fools to believe that power could be shared by thousands.

The power of the dark side should be shared only by two; one to embody it, the other to crave it.

Vader’s transformation meant that Sidious, too, was able to focus once more on important matters. With Vader in his place, Sidious could now devote himself to intensifying his authority over the Senate and the outlying star systems, and to rooting out and vanquishing any who posed a threat to the Empire.

He had brought peace to the galaxy. Now he meant to rule it as he saw fit—with a hand as strong and durable as one of Vader’s prostheses. Crushing any opponents who rose up. Instilling fear in any who thought to obstruct or thwart him.

Vader would prove to be a powerful apprentice, at least until a more suitable one was found.

And a powerful weapon, as well, at least until a more powerful one was readied …

For some time, Sidious sat, musing on the future; then he called for Sate Pestage to join him in the throne room.

The time had come to give the rest of the galaxy a look at Darth Vader.