Chapter Text
Running the Empire was hard work.
Vader did not mind hard work, after all, that term summarised his entire life. But typically hard work was fulfilling and satisfying. Presently, that could not be said for running Palpatine’s Empire.
Day by day the old man became more and more… deranged. Palpatine delved further and further into the dark side of the force, obsessing over the occult. Arcane rituals on Coruscant, prioritising hunting artifacts over securing Imperial targets, making important decisions on the slightest whims of the force. It was getting more and more out of hand with every passing day.
And the more Palpatine isolated himself with his cult-like followers, the more responsibility for running the Galactic Empire fell to Vader. This in itself would normally be championed as a good thing, if he wasn’t still forced to follow Palpatine’s inane directives and commands. He had all of the power and command without any of the authority necessary to use it as he pleased.
To summarise, he was running Palpatine’s sinking ship. There was no doubt the rebels would eventually win if he wasn’t given the latitude to reform the Empire. It just wasn’t sustainable.
And that was what really frustrated Vader. All the sacrifices he had made were either for his wife or for the greater good. He genuinely believed that the Empire could be a force for good if used properly, but Palpatine’s paranoia and borderline insanity was tearing everything he had worked for apart.
Vader had been hopeful after the destruction of the Death Star that Palpatine would see reason. The loss of so much talented personnel and experience was felt across the Empire. Tarkin. Yularen. Bast. The list went on. Kark, Vader nearly lost Veers to the damn thing!
But no, Palpatine doubled down on his authoritarian and essentially doctoral beliefs and Vader was left trying to keep the Empire in one piece.
For the first time in months Vader had managed to pull away from work to his castle on Mustafar. He needed a few days’ rest to clear his head and come up with a plan. So here he was, meditating in his private quarters. He held his helmet in his hand, staring at the face that terrorised so many.
How did it come to this? Where did he go wrong? Force, he wished he could go back. He wished he could go back before any of this begun. He could do a better job than Palpatine! He could do a better job than anyone! No one saw the truth like he did, Vader was certain. Force damn those blasted Sith and Jedi prophecies alike. Hells, force damn the Sith and Jedi too for that matter. Everyone was so limited in their thinking that they couldn’t possibly see any other way to peace and prosperity than through their own!
Again, he wished he had a chance to fix things. To make something better. To make a better galaxy. He sighed. Wish as he might, he was stuck right where he was, through no one’s fault but his own.
The force had another idea.
Gasp
Vader opened his eyes suddenly. Where was he? What had happened?
He glanced around the room. He was no longer in his meditation chamber. But his helmet was still in his hands! How was he breathing?!
He looked down at his body. He was no longer in his armour, instead wearing a version of his last Jedi robes combined with his now-disappeared armour. Which meant…
Vader pulled off his gloves. He had his arms back!
He dropped to his knees taking in all the new information. In doing so he caught his reflection on a piece of shiny metal covering part of the wall. He touched his face. His face. He looked just like he did before his duel with Obi-Wan. Even his eyes were no longer yellow.
Vader laughed.
There was no pain. He had no master. He was free.
He laughed again.
Perhaps the force listened to him? He cared not for the ‘how’. But now, he needed to determine the ‘where’ and ‘when’.
Vader reached out with the force. He was still on Mustafar, that much was for certain, but when he reached further he was mildly surprised. The galaxy did not feel so dark as it had under the rule of the Empire. He placed his bets on having been sent before the rise of the Empire. But by how much?
He needed to find out more.
Walking around the facility, Vader realised that this was the mining facility which preceded his castle. Dozens of droids bustled around him as he slowly approached where he distantly remembered to be the command centre.
None stopped him, even the security droids – he had long forgotten how bumbling the B1s were – simply let him past. He barged into the office Gunray had fled to when he slaughtered the Separatist Council. That memory was an enjoyable one.
The thin-haired man seated behind a surprisingly austere desk narrowed his eyes at Vader. “Who the hell are you?”
He took a moment to consider the man in front of him. He looked… familiar. Decades ago, there was a man who served the Emperor… Ah, of course. “Kinman Doriana.”
Where lesser men may have nervously fidgeted or trembled, Doriana attempted to put up a façade. “Who? I’m Adjutant Stratis, now as you’re in my office-”
“You serve Sidious.”
At last, the other man appeared nervous. He gulped.
“I would like to show you something.”
Without saying anything further, Vader pinned the man with the force and approached him. He placed his gloved hand on Doriana’s face and opened his mind, showing select memories. He released the other man, who dropped to the floor, breathing heavily.
“He… he did it! His plan worked! But… but where am I?”
“You disappear. Not even I know what happened to you. I always reasoned you were… just another loose end.”
“Damn it. Damn it!” he slammed his fist on his desk. “So even if I win, I lose? Kark. Kark!”
“There is an alternative.”
Doriana spread his arms out wide sardonically. “I’m all ears.”
“Serve me instead. You are ambitious, you crave power. I would normally detest such motivation, but I am aware you could prove useful. More importantly, loyal.”
“I don’t even know who you are. And what’s to say you won’t just kill me once I’m no longer useful?”
Vader placed his hands on his hips. “I’d offer you my word, but I suspect that means little to you. Nevertheless, allow me to present your options. One, you continue to serve Sidious and are eventually killed. Two, you attempt to flee, and are hunted down and killed. Three, you serve me, the only option where your death is not guaranteed. I will always have need of competence, and so there will always be a place for you in what I plan to build.”
Doriana sat there for several moments, considering his options. Vader nearly allowed himself a smirk.
“I am Lord Vader,” he finally revealed. “Sidious is a fool. He will die.”
“Very well,” Doriana acquiesced. “I will serve you, Lord Vader. How may I be of service?”
Vader smiled curtly. “Firstly, I require information. What year is this?”
“My lord?”
“Trust when I say the force works in mysterious ways. There are reasons I know the future, reasons I am not ready to disclose.”
“1359, Galactic Standard.”
“I see…” so, it was 41 years before the Battle of Yavin. This was good. This was very good. “I require a ship. You will organise a meeting between me and current Chairman of the Banking Clan.”
“San Hill? You’re in luck, he’s hosting trade talks on Eriadu as we speak.”
“One last thing, you are to do all in your power to find me Hego Damask. I require a meeting with him.”
Doriana scoffed. “That will be easier than organising a meeting with San Hill. Damask is on Eriadu as well. You should be able to speak with him before I can get you to speak with Hill.”
“Good. Do what you must to finish here. We leave when you are ready.”
“Of course, my lord.”