Clearly, Vader had no regard for his master's foolish plans; the old man was becoming increasingly demented with age. There were far more important things the Sith could be doing with his time. He had battles to plan and rebels to track. He did not have time to watch a silly girl trying to find her sexuality. The two women had already spent too much time in the senator's apartment, and now they were beginning to grate on his nerves. Time was being wasted. Surveying and investigating squandered precious time. It had been years since Vader had dealt with people like this, opting instead to simply take what he wanted and kill them. Killing was more practical. It saved time and rid the universe of pointless fools- fools like Rush Clovis.
The mere thought of the man made Vader's blood boil. Clovis was such a fool, and even worse– he was near. Vader could feel him, sense him, and hear his disgusting thoughts. Reaching out with the Force, his attention was suddenly drawn to a man flaunting his wealth to a bouncer at the club's door, paying to avoid waiting in line. The man smiled as the guard allowed him to pass, his thoughts focused on the many women around him and the senator he was pursuing just inside. Vader knew immediately that the man was Clovis, and it frustrated him that he could hear his thoughts so clearly– just as he had allowed before.
The imbecile thinks he is clever, Vader thought, and he was highly annoyed. He tried to ignore the man's perverted and self-glorified thoughts, which were screaming in his head.
Vader was surprised that no one else noticed Clovis trailing the two women, as the man was hardly inconspicuous. It seemed so obvious; however, Vader was more attuned to everything happening around him than the average galactic citizen. As a Sith Lord, he was a formidable and deadly force, trained to employ such tactics. To him, the insignificant lives filling the galaxy were nothing more than insects; they were trivial compared to him and his power.
Clovis smiled and nodded at a few women as he walked through the door, licking his lips and winking, behaving as if he were a treat for them to devour with their eyes.
He's nothing but a low-life form, Vader growled to himself, his nerves being pushed to their limits once more. He's not even worth the ground he walks on. I will enjoy killing him.
Rush Clovis was the only man to have survived Vader's wrath, and they both knew it. Clovis practically wore this fact as a badge of honor. The fool believed he was now invincible, that he alone could stand against the Sith Lord– that the Sith Lord feared him. It was all lies, and in the future, Vader planned to set the record straight. Soon, Rush Clovis would meet his end at the hands of the Dark Lord himself, unable to escape death any longer. Vader would have killed him instantly at that absurd party if his master had not kept him on such a tight leash. For some reason, the Emperor wanted Rush Clovis alive, and Vader would have to obey his master's orders for the time being.
Turning his thoughts back to the absurd yet top-priority mission, Vader lingered in the darkness as he waited for the two women and Clovis to disappear from his sight, though not from his true perception. He allowed them to blend into the crowd before he followed. It was far too easy for Vader to slip into the club unnoticed, and for a moment, he actually missed the top-secret security of Rebel Alliance bases, where he had to exert real effort. For once, he had to give the scum their due. The rebels would have sensed the unease that washed over them or the way the temperature dropped upon his arrival. Now, Death itself had entered the club, yet none of the fools inside seemed to notice. Once fully inside, Vader blended into the room's darkness, silently observing the senator as she sipped her drink at a small table on the far side of the dance floor. Unlike her friend, the senator sat tall and stiff, resembling an invasive species among the surrounding low-dwellers. Her thoughts revealed a desire to fit in, yet she remained oblivious to the fact that she was doing anything but.
Not only did her professionalism and strong body language- evident from years in politics, at least to Vader- disclose her secret, but her physical appearance also failed to deter the gazes of hungry men. According to the thoughts of those in the room– men and women alike– she had captured nearly everyone's attention the moment she entered the club, with their minds filling with fantasies of possessing or embodying her.
Still, Clovis's mind shouted above the rest as he observed the senator from his seat at the bar, flirting and buying drinks for other women, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It was a situation that felt overly dramatic– childishly so, almost provoking a groan from Vader. His only saving grace was deriving some pleasure from the scene, which came in the form of the young senator. Even from across the room, he could sense her discomfort and disinterest in being at the nightclub, sending a wave of pleasure rippling through his body.
Good, he thought slightly amused. At least we will both suffer through this dreadful night.
For Padmé, time passed at an alarming and agonizingly slow rate; the clock indicated that it had just struck midnight, yet her mind felt as if she had been trapped in the club for years. She had promised her best friend that she would try to act her age, but, as usual, she had failed in that task. It seemed that no matter what she tried, she continuously stumbled, and the realization sat sickly in her stomach, mingling with the stale air and repulsive drinks.
In truth, she had given it her all, joining her friend as they both shed their robes, drank, and danced the night away. She forced down a few shots of hard liquor for Dormé's sake, but now she could feel the alcohol churning in her belly.
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