I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.
"Love doesn't lead to the Dark Side. Passion can lead to rage and fear. And can be controlled. But passion is not the same thing as love. Controlling your passions while being in love. That's what they should teach you to beware. But love itself will save you, not condemn you." - Jolee Bindo
Kristoph of the royal house: Duke of Almerac's capital city—Tae Tamarac—cousin of Queen Maxima, and a nearly graduated Junior Lieutenant of the Royal Starfighter Corps of the Royal Almeracian Navy was currently walking down through the royal palace.
In his officer's uniform, he had his white tunic that was in that color to show his membership in the royal house. Members of the royal house, members of one of the nobility houses in Almerac, or a soldier in the royal guard have the privilege of wearing the color to show their importance, while members of the army have green jackets and navy personnel wear blue. He had no medals to speak of; he had pressed black trousers and shined boots. A proper uniform that he could finally wear instead of that embarrassing cadet uniform he was stuck wearing for almost a year.
He graduated from the Naval Academy of Tae Tamarac only weeks ago; he spent his entire time of being an eighteen-year-old at that prestigious school. Now nineteen and a full-fledged officer, he was ready to join a fleet and enter combat for his nation and for his family's honor.
If he gets into combat, that is.
Almerac hasn't seen peer-to-peer combat in almost generations—fleets and patrol sections only dealing with pirates, criminals, scoundrels, and other types of unfriendly neighbors outside of their borders. But none of the major fleets have gone into action since the Almerac Empire was still a thing.
But in spite of the peaceful situation, Kristoph was sure his time in glory would come soon.
Walking through the grand hall of the royal palace he grew up in, he passed servants, royal guards, and other important figures in the government so that he may head to the palace's own landing pad. His cousin, Maxima, just got back from a recreational trip on Warworld. He could never understand why his cousin would watch that bloody and dangerous game in person instead of watching it on a holo-projector. But knowing his older ruling cousin, she was an outside girl at heart. She never really liked watching action through other means; she most often liked to get down and dirty with the show. In some cases, he was like that too.
Passionate as she was, and though he loved her as they were family, she had her flaws. Outspoken more often than a queen should be, usually blunt in ways she shouldn't be, occasionally ill-tempered, and not very good at politics. But then again, he wasn't really good at politics either or very subtle about things.
Regardless of her flaws, she is his queen, the matriarch of the royal house and family. He will love her as such, with flaws or not.
Now, at the grand doors that lead to the palace's landing area, he was outside, where the palace stood tall and proud on a mountain that looked over to Almerac's capital city. It was morning in Tae Tamarac, and the citizens were beginning to go through their daily routines. Shopkeepers and clerks began to open stores in the marketplaces. Air cars ran through the canopy of the cityscape. Almerac's star was starting to rise up from the mountain range to give day, making its light show through the wide valley where the great city was constructed.
Cold air and singing birds greeted Kristoph as he made his way onto the landing platform, where ceremonial royal guards and silent servant girls stood in line for their queen's arrival that would come soon. There waiting by himself was Sh'Kirry, the Captain of the Royal Guard. In his sixties, with white long hair that almost touched the back of his neck while the top of his head was clean bald, he proudly wore the royal guards white uniform with many service medals and awards from his long life of being a loyal servant to the royal house. Being a talented pilot himself, Sh'Kirry had been in many smaller engagements with parts of uncivilized space that decided to enter Almerac's border more times than Kristoph can count.
The Royal Duke went up to the Captain Guard, who was at the area of the landing pad where he would be the first one to greet the Queen. He saluted the older officer, who had his hands clasped to his back. "Good morning, sir."
Sh'Kirry regarded Kristoph with a salute back, "Good morning, Lieutenant." He had a smile on his wrinkly face. Despite the amount of medals he had, Sh'Kirry had the look of an old shopkeeper that many would find hard not to like.
"Do you know when the Queen's skiff will be here?" Kristoph asked.
Sh'Kirry looked up into the morning sky onto a specific meandering cloud, "Right now, I suppose so."
Kristoph looked in the general direction upwards as well and saw the elegant royal skiff owned by Queen Maxima break through the clouds and descend down from the sky. Designed and manufactured by the Almerican Royal Corps of Engineers, the Royal Star skiff has one of the finest luxuries on board, with the addition of advanced shielding and the best hyperdrive money can purchase. Almost teardrop-shaped, its sides were bent to an angle, while the front of the ship was where the curve was at it.
Landing down on the platform, its shiny frame reflected the early sun's rays with its landing gear deploying. The boarding ramp went down, and the servants bowed while the guards stood at attention. Both Sh'Kirry and Kristoph bowed to the waist simultaneously. The duke heard the footsteps of his cousin exit out of the skiff with another heavier set to her side.
"Welcome back, my Queen," the Captain of the Royal Guard said. Both he and Kristoph went up to greet their Queen with their gaze. "It is good to..."
Sh'Kirry's words stopped, and both of the uniformed men froze as they saw a figure that their queen was clinging to with her arm. Standing above two meters was a man in shiny obsidian-colored armor. He had a strange panel of some sort built into his chest that glowed with red and green. He had a cape in the same color as the rest of his suit, which made it difficult to see his body altogether for how dark it was. He wore a black mask that slightly resembled a skull. Finally, the dark man had an eerie respirator, which made heavy mechanical breathing dominate any sound around despite it not being loud.
Being in the royal house, Kristoph had the gift of being a telepath, though weaker comparatively to his cousin. The man that he sensed that was next to his beloved cousin was absolutely nothing. A figure that can be only described as a bottomless pit.
A black golem.
Even though it was a chilly morning, it was a welcome one and relaxing as well because that part of Almerac was in its summer cycle. When the man got closer, it felt as though Kristoph was put in a freezer for an entire day. He felt a shiver run down his back, and his fingers started to lock up.
Maxima, though, despite the nightmarish shadow next to her, seemed happy, even delighted. As if she didn't know the man that she interlocked her arm into was a pure pitless golem. He looked over to the skiff and saw the servant girls and guards that accompanied Maxima during her trip exiting behind as well. They looked like they hadn't slept for days, even though it hasn't been no more than two. They were spooked too, and Kristoph couldn't blame them.
He saw Sazu, and she had the sad face that someone had seen their own death.
The servants and guards at the landing platform stiffened; some girls tried not to faint or shiver as if they were freezing to death, while the guards couldn't help but watch the dark figure even though they were at attention. The joyful Maxima with the dark man went up to Kristoph and Sh'Kirry. They stopped a couple of paces away. Maxima breathed in the air, which was getting even colder to Kristoph with the presence of the dark figure. "Isn't it a beautiful morning, Sh'Kirry?" She asked the leader of her personal guard.
The duke saw that Sh'Kirry was shaken by the presence of the man next to the Queen; even veterans like him aren't immune to anomalies like this golem. "Y-yes, yes, my Queen, of course it is."
Maxima looked in between the man and the dark, tall figure that she clung to, then she giggled as if she forgot something that was funny. "Oh! Where are my manners? Boys," she looked over to Sh'Kirry and Kristoph, "Meet my new hubby," She hugged the dark man, "Darth Vader, and he'll be Almerac's new king!"
Kristoph didn't know if he should yell at Maxima out of anger or completely run away to the other side of the galaxy. Maxima, his cousin and the only family they have, picked possibly one of the scariest beings that she must've found in the darkest crevices in the universe. He had seen many men that Maxima had interest in; they were slimy—literally and figuratively—raunchy, greedy, barbarous, and other males that Almeracian society would shun.
Yet now, her sweet royal cousin was possibly madly in love with this Darth Vader. He hasn't even seen him for a complete minute, and it seemed the masked man just came out of Krisoph's worst nightmare.
Sh'Kirry, terrified to not make Darth Vader mad, to please his Queen, or both, forced a smile and a fake happy tone. "That's…wonderful, my lady."
Maxima looked up to Darth Vader, who only stood as a statue. "Darthy…" she said in a soothing voice to please the figure, "This is Sh'Kirry, Captain of the Royal Guard." She pointed to the older officer.
Darth Vader placed both black gloved hands onto his belt and moved his mask to the shorter man. The voice that he spoke out of was not of his own. The vocoder carried his words, deep as oil, black as night, and cold as an automata. "You protect your queen's life over your own, would you?"
Though shaken a bit, Sh'Kirry still had a somewhat military manner to him, answering with supreme confidence despite the being in front of him that might've drained it if he were a lesser man. "Yes, sir. In an instant, I would. I hold the rank of Colonel in the regular forces, but I owe my soul, body, and mind to my Lady's protection."
Since it was hard to tell what emotion Darth Vader was having while hard to sense by Kristoph's telepathy, he seemed pleased with the answer. "That is good, Colonel. I wish some men that I have seen had your sense of loyalty."
Maxima then gestured her free hand to Kristoph, which he silently gulped. "And this is my beloved, lovable cousin, Kristoph: Duke of Tae Tamarac."
Darth Vader moved his black helmet and studied the Duke. Kristoph was never really afraid of the dark. But when Darth Vader looked into him, he remembered the phrase, "If you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." And when that line got to him in his head, he now understood what it meant.
"Maxima," Darth Vader said to Kristoph, "Had said many things about you, Duke."
Kristoph could only move his head up and down and gather enough courage to say, "Yes, sir."
"She said that you are a pilot."
The Duke's head went up and down slowly. "Yes, sir, I am."
Darth Vader didn't say anything as he let his respirator cycle through a cold inhale and exhale. "Then we shall see if you will have a great career in such matters."
"Yes, sir, of course, sir."
Maxima put her amorous attention away from Darth Vader and onto Sh'Kirry with a serious manner. "Sh'Kirry," the old guard got rigid and lost his nervousness, "Get the minister of rituals; we'll be having a wedding!" She hugged Darth Vader very much; Darth Vader didn't return the embrace.
Sh'Kirry went to shock and quickly replaced it with his loyal, complying tone, "Yes, my lady, consider it done. Is there a specific date and time you wish to put it in?"
Maxima placed a finger onto her chin for exaggerated thought, "How about...now!"
Sh'Kirry looked like he was about to protest but dropped it immediately. "I'll tell the minister, post-haste."
She smiled, "Great!" She went to Darth Vader. "Hubby dear," she caressed his black mask. "Let's go and see the palace while the wedding gets ready."
Darth Vader turned his head towards Maxima, his helmet not showing any emotion Kristoph could make out. He made a long pause before saying, "As you wish…dear."
Her arm wrapped around his large black padded one, and him not showing the shame affectionate she is, Maxima and Darth Vader walked out of the landing platform and into the entrance of the Royal Palace. Servants bowed as they saw their Queen walk by them, doing their best to not show the fear of Darth Vader's shadowy presence. Kristoph spots an alien dog with orange fur, and tusks come out of the skiff, confused and slightly freighted, then head towards Darth Vader behind once he spotted him. When the servants passed to attend to their Queen's desires, guards going back to their posts, Sh'Kirry leaving to now arrange the wedding ceremony, Kristoph went to the saddening Sazu, who was walking in Maxima's direction.
He went to her side and silently but unbelievably said, "Sazu! What happened!"
Sazu gave the Duke of Tae Tamarac a sidelong glance, "Many things I'm afraid of." She sounded almost like she understood the situation and accepted it.
Kristoph knew Sazu since he was a little boy; the older woman was Maxima's personal advisor and handmaiden. Sazu is a loyal servant to the house and a friend to Kristoph; if he didn't consider Maxima like a sister, then Sazu would be second-to-best in that role. Sometimes she was the first. Even though a couple years ago, when Sazu had done that thing no one wanted to talk about, Kristoph understood the position she was in; even if she somewhat betrayed the house, she had the intentions of keeping Almerac from falling apart due to Maxima's rule.
Sazu was usually there to at least steer Maxima in the right direction. Whether politics or critical decision-making, she was there for his cousin so that she could never make a wrong decision. At least recently. But now, it felt like Sazu didn't do her job properly.
"What do you mean by many things?" Kristoph said his relationship with Sazu was informal, so there were no titles or regards to be made. "Why is Maxima marrying…" he motioned to where Maxima and Darth Vader were walking when they entered the threshold of the palace. Maxima was currently showing her new "betrothed" the family's artifacts, art collections, and other decor from Almerac's past in the palace's grand hallway. "That?!" He whispered.
Sazu lifted a black eyebrow and said, "You act as if I have any say in the matter."
"Well, you do, don't you?! You're her advisor; how could you let this happen?!"
Sazu shifted her head from side to side. "In my position, I couldn't do a thing." She didn't say anything for a moment. "You know we went to Warworld, correct?"
"Yes."
"And I'm sure you know about Mongul's late champion: Draaga."
"Yeah, I've seen the holo-vids of..." Kristoph's eyes widened when realizing her choice of words. "'Late?'"
"Dead." Sazu confirmed, "Darth Vader killed him." She looked over to the "couple" and looked back at Kristoph again, "Along with Warworld's ruler, and rather in a barbaric way."
"Mongul?…he killed Mongul?" Kristoph looked over to Darth Vader with many things in his mind. "I've…heard Mongul's race is just as powerful as those dead Kryptonians…"
The Queen's assistant shrugged, "We'll never know now since he's dead too. And because of that, it makes Darth Vader Warworld's new ruler and owner of Mongul's Empire by extension. Draaga was strong in his own right, but Mongul was just and possibly stronger than more sentients if the rumors are true. He fought Vader and took his entire castle down. Vader showed himself he was stronger and more powerful than Mongul." She narrowed her eyes forward, "THAT is how your dear cousin got attracted to him and lost in a fight to test him."
Kristoph whirled his head at Sazu, stunned. "She fought him, and she lost?"
Sazu sighed, "Yes," and looked disturbed. "She almost died because of that. You don't understand how helpless she was when she was being choked by his psychic abilities."
Kristoph twisted his face in boiling rage at Darth Vader, his fear of him vanishing. He was about to stomp over to a dark figure when Sazu grabbed hold of his arm silently. "And you also don't understand that you have no say in this either, whether you like it or not."
Kristoph peeled back his lips to show his teeth and gritted them, "I'm not going to have my cousin marry the man that tried to kill her!" He said quietly, almost nearing yelling.
"Your cousin says otherwise; she wasn't disturbed by it." Sazu stated calmly, "And what makes you think you can just challenge him? If he killed Draaga, killed Mongul, and almost Maxima, what chance do you think you'll have?"
Kristoph made his eyes into slits at Sazu. "I'll stun him with my psychic powers, that's what." He said confidently.
Sazu couldn't contain a genuine laugh that was near mocking. "I don't know what good that will do. Maxima told me that she already tried to probe him for information." She shook her head. "He batted her away like a fly, and you know how your cousin fights. If she wanted to put him in a coma, she would. But she probably had the right mind of not doing it; if she did, it would've just made him more angry. He's more powerful than you think, Kristoph. Be mindful of that. He slaughtered hundreds of beasts, killed Draaga, and proceeded to butcher Mongul's armies and Mongul himself—back to back." She looked at him with emphasis and almost with warning. "You are no threat to him whatsoever."
"Fine," Kristoph let out. He folded his arms and observed Vader from behind. "Well, do we know where he's from?"
"Other than he was captured by Mongul's men? Nothing but the title he called himself: A Dark Lord of the Sith."
"Huh, a fitting name." Kristoph mused.
"Quite so," Sazu said, "but when I checked the database on the Maxima's skiff, there is no known record of a 'Dark Lord of the Sith' or 'Sith' altogether."
"The galaxy is a big place, Sazu," the Duke explained, "and the universe in all—not everything about them can just be accessed or stored."
She shifted her eyes in Kristoph's direction. "Someone with that much power and skill doesn't just pop out of nowhere. He's from somewhere, and with that title of 'lord', there might be others like him."
Kristoph shakes his head. "That's a day I don't want to see. So... what do we do now?"
"Simple," Sazu said. "We wait."
"Wait?!" Kristoph strongly questioned, "We wait for what?!"
"We wait…" Sazu continued, "For the Council of Almerac to convene about the situation and make a decision about it. All of this is out of our hands. If I know anything about the council, when they see Vader for the first time, they'll be livid about the marriage and do whatever is in their power to stop it."
"But with how much Maxima wants the wedding," Kristoph interjected, "they might not have time to do anything."
Sazu shakes her head disappointedly. "You forget, Duke; if the Council disapproves the marriage, they have the right to denounce it and revoke it if the non-royal doesn't have Almerac's best interest in mind. And they can do that, whenever, before or after the marriage."
Kristoph remembered the legal authority of the Council of Almerac. A small collection of the highest noblemen from all of Almerac; they were supposed to check the Queen's power, if need be. Maxima can be wild, but even she knows not to question or challenge the council, at least partially.
A headache starts to form in Kristoph's head. He rubbed his temple and ran a hand through his brown, slicked-back hair. "I have a bad feeling about this." He admitted.
Sazu responded with, "Bad, Kristoph, is an understatement."
***
Tae Tamarac and Almeracian architecture, from what Vader can gather, had a neo-classical look not too different to the Muun city, Harnadiden, on Muunilinist. Its reach covers most of the valleys and hills of that mountain range, with the exception of a selected few untainted by buildings for nature reservations and for the nobility to own privately. Two billion Almeracians lay in the city, with an additional billion in the greater metro area. Some of the tallest skyscrapers of the Metropolis were near the height of some of the mountains themselves.
In the largest valley in the mountains, the 'Great Valley' as it was referred to, was actually where the city was first created by Almerac's first founders: Almaara and Raacal. This main section of the city was where the oldest and most important parts of Almeracian culture, history, and government resided. One of these buildings was where the Royal Palace stood tall and proud in the city sector. Near the palace was the Grand Catheral of Almerac: Saint Almaara.
Its golden dome shone under the Almeracian sun, and towers poked into the heavens on all four corners of the grand church. Its great walls were crowded with high officials of the government, military, religious leaders, and the nobility and their families. Not all of them, however, for Maxima's sudden call for the wedding has not reached the ears of every important individual through Almerac space. So there were some important people still missing that weren't in close proximity to Almerac.
Behind the priest's podium was a colorful and beautiful stained window of the first couple, Almaara and Raacal, picturing them viewing the Great Valley in its glory. The sun casts a colorful array of bright rays down into the grand hall.
With his back away from the audience, facing the priest who nervously waited for the Queen's arrival, and looking into the stained window was Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith and the newest and current ruler of Warworld. Soon, he'll be part of the Almeracian royalty by marriage. One step closer to bringing his galactic empire to reality.
Queen Maxima wasted no time at all arranging the ceremony of their marriage. No sooner than when they came to Almerac and landed on the royal palace's landing platform, she had ordered her servants and underlings to quickly arrange and make the wedding.
Darth Vader slightly looked to the side and noted that most of the wedding's attendees were staring at his tall black frame. Men were in complete confusion for his appearance, women and servant girls were scared of him, and children that the families brought wanted to run away. Vader did not care for their opinions, for his galaxy had many varying options for him, but none of that mattered; actions speak louder than words.
Among the Almeracian elite, in the front row was Larfleeze, sticking out like a sorry, orange, and furry thumb. He was the only non-humanoid of the crowd and has been stared at for his own appearance, though this was more out of disgust at being a non-Almeracian for the dog than being terrified for an appearance unlike Vader.
The Sith suspected and sensed that Almeracian does not take kindly to those who aren't of their own, especially non-humanoids. Though not actually humans in their own right, Vader felt the Almeracians were slightly durable and stronger than humans, the extreme example being Maxima.
When looking up Almerac's history and the Millky Way's at large in the computer from Maxima's yacht, there was no mention of the human race except vague details of a planet in the Orion arm. Theorizing that he was in a different galaxy or universe was already troubling as it is, but humans being in the same realm he was in even when statistically that shouldn't be possible led to many implications.
Almeracians weren't the only ones who looked human yet didn't owe their originals to humanity; a group called the Rannians also looked completely identical to humans when he saw their records in the holo-net and even were close to that human home world. While not fully identical, Thanagarians, the race Larfleeze had said earlier that they were in a generational war, looked human except for the set of wings on their backs.
There were other near-human races in this galaxy that would've been called humans in his own realm, but in this one, they were separate. Vader thought this new information he gathered on the races was confusing and partly troubling but ultimately concluded that it won't matter when his empire is established.
Leading to Almerac's racism toward other races, Vader did not entirely hate the mentality. There were races that were barbaric, savage-like, uncivilized, and just animals in his galaxy that he would like to see their respected homeworlds glassed; Tusken Raiders and Hutts came to mind. In his new galaxy, the trend of being animals seemed to exist here as well. Races like Sangtee, Khund, Gordanian, and others came up onto the computer he used in the yacht and showed their barbaric raids on their parts of the galaxy. In their own ways, they have brought slavery, unjust cruelty, chaos, and war to the Milky Way, while these Guardians from Oa don't seem to bother destroying the pests.
When Vader's Empire is installed and is into power, these pests will be squashed with no mercy and will blame the ones who allowed their infestation to occur. Almerac has a history of war and combat; this is what he gathered on the computer. Even today it might not seem like it, Almeracians have the potential to bring civilization onto this galaxy and instill stability and order onto its populace, only if they are willing to take on the burden to do so, much like how the Sith will take the responsibility of leading and ruling them to that task.
The order of Vader's thoughts was destroyed when the cathedral's organ, which was giant to compensate for the church's size, brought a song to play that announced the ceremony would start. The cathedral's attendance stood up out of respect and courtesy of the entrance of their queen, soon his wife. Vader turned around to see his bride enter through the cathedrals' large, tall doors.
Maxima was in a complete and total white wedding dress, much the opposite of his suit's color. The silky gown flowed from the area where her hips were, and it dragged itself onto the luxurious carpet she was walking across. The dress hugged her waist and frame tightly; her arms were in white sleeves, and her hands cupped a bouquet of colorful flowers from Almeracian origin. Her chest was liberally revealing, which might've been eye-catching to weaker men. A semi-transparent white veil was on top of her, hiding her face and her crimson hair, though these were still seen. Next to her, in tradition, was the eldest male of her house, Kristoph, who interlocked his arm into hers.
To some men or even most, Queen Maxima in this particular dress and appearance might've been pretty, gorgeous, desirable—beautiful. To Vader, she was a woman, plain and simple. This marriage itself is just a stepping stone to the galaxy's chance of peace and order, nothing more.
Maxima strode across the red carpet that highlighted her destination. Behind her, younger servant girls in ceremonial dresses threw flowers behind Maxima's trail. When Maxima got up to the stage and went to his left, Vader and her faced the priest as the wedding attendees sat down and the organ fell to silence.
Maxima lifted the veil that somewhat restricted the view of her face and looked onto Vader while the priest prepared the ceremony. Her face was in unwavering love for him. "Do I look good for you? My love?"
The face that romanticly gazed into Vader had no meaning to him, not personally at least. Coming up with an answer, he said, "Yes," though he did not say it with any emotion that would have been appropriate to any normal man in this situation.
Interestingly and unexpectedly, Maxima, being a telepath herself, should've felt Vader's lack of interest in the affair, yet she blushed with color, bit her lip, and said, "You will always look good to me too, dear."
Darth Vader hoped that titles like 'dear', 'love', or 'hubby' would not plague him, but he knew they would and needed to take the burden down.
The silence established itself on the audience, and the whole cathedral took in the priest's echo. "Friends, comrades, servants of Almerac! We are gathered here today for…" The holy man trailed off as Vader's breathing somewhat continued against his opening speech. The man looked unsure for a moment and leaned closer to Vader, "My…lord, could you perhaps turn that thing down?"
Vader's only reply was a long pause. Maxima looked onto Vader and back to the priest, twisting her beautiful face into a scowl at the balding man. "Ignore it and get to the point, minister."
"But…" The priest tried to reason with his Queen, "My lady, it will be sa-,"
Maxima's eyes widened in anger, teeth clenched, and she gritted out, "I said, Get. To. The. Point."
The priest submitted and grimly nodded. He swallowed hard and looked to the both of them to motion for the "couple" to hold hands. Vader and Maxima faced each other; the light from the grand window gleamed onto her skin that almost made it glow. The light seemed attracted to her. The light that reached Vader seemed allergic, not wanting to touch him.
Maxima extended her arms to him, palms up, so that he may take them into a hold. Vader hesitated for a moment but folded in that he must do this. He reached out with his black, large gloved hands and took in her soft, gentle hands. Maxima viewed Vader with her blue eyes as he could feel the emotions she was emitting to him. Vader did not exchange the feelings.
But he froze when he felt something within him that shouldn't be there—nervousness. Was he nervous to take the hand of a woman that he had no love or feelings for? He couldn't; he didn't need feelings nor wanted any. He went deeper into his shadow to try find the source of this unwanted feeling and found it. He undid the black veil that it was covered, and the light nearly blinded him when the veil left.
He recognized the light as the young Jedi, Anakin Skywalker, with his padawan braid not cut yet and a loosely self-constructed cybernetic right hand. The Jedi's hands took on another, and Vader's world broke when it was the Jedi's wife, Padme Amidala.
He realized that he was not viewing it as an observer but rather in the eyes of the young Jedi.
He felt the rays of the Naboo sun shine onto them. The lake house that they married next to showed the countryside's beauty, with the birds singing and the mountains above the lake in view. But none of it was comparable to her. She wore a white veil that disrespectfully hid her flowing brown hair. Parts of her skin were shown by white lace fabric that showed her smooth skin.
He felt his heart pounding uncontrollably, his breathing getting slower. He wished he still had his right arm, the same one that was taken by the Count of Serrano. He wished he had that arm so that he might have another hand to touch her with. He looked into those brown eyes, those eyes that he couldn't stop looking at and couldn't find the courage on his part to seal their love together.
She looked into him with reassurance that warmed him and said, "Don't be afraid."
Fear—that's what it was. He was afraid, but for what? In Sith training, a member of the order is expected to use whatever fear they have, whether the fear of death, losing their power, or someone, and using that emotion to fuel their strength. Vader was no different and had his fears, but this was foreign. It was new, unexpected.
When he traced back onto why this fear was occurring, on whom or what was causing it, it led him back to reality, in the face of his new bride.
"No," he told himself. "That's not how things are supposed to be."
Why would he be afraid of her? She was no match for mastery of the dark side, even with her immense physical strength. Her powers as a monarch would also be in the same manner. But then a churning idea entered him. Maybe he wasn't afraid of her, but rather for her. Why would he be worried about a woman that he wouldn't care about? Why would her well-being be his concern? Why…
"Love?" Maxima's voice got to him.
Vader blinked under his mask and saw that Maxima was genuinely concerned for him. He felt that his cybernetic hands were curling into her own hands. If she was a lesser being, his hands would have turned it into mush. He didn't know how long he searched for the newfound fear but knew it would have to wait.
He also found out his heart was beating faster, and his breathing was going quickly as well to feed his nervous heart and body air. He saw the audience was concerned as well with an addition of confusion but didn't say anything. The priest was the same.
Vader's rapid breathing cycled through and echoed across the cathedral. The red-haired Almeracian woman placed a gentle hand onto the side of his Sith helmet and whispered out, "It's okay, don't be afraid."
In all of the infinite mysteries of the universe and the force itself. The things that had more questions than answers. In all of the things that made Vader question himself, his place, his life. From the way she touched his head to where his cheek would be, her voice, her eyes that somehow comforted him, his breathing got back to his regular rhythm, and he felt at ease again. His grip that she held relaxed.
He didn't know how or why her words comforted him or how they easily imparted the uneasy feeling from him. But it made him furious over himself; this fury, however, will need to be kept back for the time being.
With Vader back into the moment, the priest continued with the ceremony. "Very well, Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith," that title Maxima provided to the priest clearly disturbed him as it did well to the audience. " And the current Lord of Warworld, will thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife? To live together, to love her, to honor her and her house, to comfort her and to keep her, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live? As well to take on the responsibilities and duty of becoming her king to her throne?"
Vader had to make his mouth utter, "I do."
The old man went to Maxima and said, "Lady Maxima, Queen of this realm, Head of the royal house, and leader of all of Almerac, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband? To live together, to love him, to honor him and his house, to comfort and to keep him, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live? As well to take on the responsibilities and duty of bestowing him the title the King of Almerac by thy throne?"
Maxima smiles at Vader, "I absolutely do!"
The priest took his attention to Vader, "I, Darth Vader, to ta-,"
Maxima made a groan and an eye roll that stopped the priest's words. "For god's sake, minster, we both said yes, just skip this part."
The priest stuttered out, "B-but, my Lady, that's not-,"
She glared at him.
The priest accepted. He skipped that ritual and went to the podium, where he picked up a finished pillow that held two golden rings on it. One of them was obviously Vader's, for it was larger than the other one. Either the blacksmith that created it was truly gifted, it was made by forge technology that Maxima seemed to have, or she had a size already available, it all didn't matter to Vader.
The priest gave Maxima's ring to Vader and the Sith Lord held the ring while holding Maxima's left hand. He pushed the ring onto the intended finger. "In this ring I give thou," the priest said for Vader to repeat.
Vader made himself say it, "In this ring I give thou."
"As a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."
"As a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding…love."
When finished, Vader dropped his hold onto his bride's hand, and the priest handed her his ring. She did the same to Vader with her smaller, delicate-looking hands on his larger ones. She repeated the words provided by the priest.
The old man motioned their hands to combine again. Vader was careful not to show his weakness as he held her hands and she held his. Though contained, his fear still lingered, for her and nothing else. But why?
"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of Almerac and of the holy power from the Divine Matron, I now pronounce you husband and wife, King and Queen." He looked onto Vader. "You may kiss the bride."
Vader felt his body go stiff. Unsealing his helmet and showing his face to a group of people already shaking from his appearance will be problematic. Which would also make Maxima renounce their marriage. Even if he could do it, would he? He has no love or passion for the woman who is currently holding his hands. He has no feelings towards her, though the same can't be said on her part.
She was madly in love with him, personality and his abilities. She has seen what he can do and even threatened her life, yet her love for him hasn't dropped nor yielded to disgust or contempt. He had given beings nightmares, yet he gave her dreams.
She loved him as Vader.
How could anyone possibly love him? How could she love Vader and not Anak-
He didn't finish that thought, for it would've been dangerous, and the light would've brightened the dark universe he constructed.
He stood there motionless while the Almeracian beauty looked with concern again. The priest leaned onto Vader, "My lord, if you could-,"
Maxima, out of anger and annoyance, grabbed the holy-dressed man by the collar, lifted him up, and said, "If you don't shut up right now, I'm going to lob that bald head of yours off that body!" She dropped him, and, on all fours, he frantically scurried away from her sight.
Knowing that he could not go around it, Vader leaned onto Maxima, but only to let her kiss him. She wrapped both arms around his neck with strength a woman shouldn't have altogether and kissed his grill-like mouth. She, of course, had lipstick on, so a red silhouette of her plush lips was stuck onto the grill. Vader wiped the lipstick off and looked at Maxima, his wife.
Maxima grabbed and interlocked her arm onto his. The audience, though reluctantly, rose up to clap and cheer on the newlyweds. Maxima was delighted by the praises as the church's grand organ played a celebratory song. For Vader, the Sith's goal to bring order and stability has been started; there is no going back now. With that knowledge, he took in the pride that he would be the one to bring that stability to this galaxy.
All the thanks to the love of a mad woman.
They walked onto the red carpet and headed to the giant cathedral doors when Sazu, Maxima's personal handmaiden and adviser, left the audience and went to the side. "My lady, we have urgent news."
Maxima let out a groan and whirled her head at Sazu while they still walked, "Sazu! Can't you see we're busy with something?! I swear if this is about—"
"No, my lady," Sazu interjected. "It's the council; they request your presence immediately."
Maxima dismissed the news with a wave of her free hand, "Well, that can wait! I.."
"My lady, it's an emergency meeting, something with the utmost importance."
Maxima rolled her eyes once again. The Council of Nobles, as Maxima explained to Vader during their trip to Almerac, was a council of Almeracian noblemen who acted as a legal council in the government. Though Maxima does have the power, the council acts as a counterbalance to any wrong or harmful decisions the monarch might make.
Apparently, it would seem that Maxima has some tension between her and this council. Knowing that certain individuals are in positions above their competency from experience, he will have tension with this council as well—tension he doesn't want.
"Wife…" he made himself say that name to Maxima who turned and gave her undecided attention. "If this council is anything that you told me about, then perhaps we should see what business they want with you."
Maxima took a moment to propose the idea in her head and accepted her husband's word. "Of course, hubby," she said that annoying nickname again, "We might as well see what they want before we start our... honeymoon." She made a devious smile that held heavy implications, implications that he is not able to offer. He would need to find an excuse or something to distract her for as much time as possible until he could find the means to repair his body, if those means and capabilities exist.
"We shall see to that later…wife." He said.
That line brought joy to her. She stepped to the side and entered a T-pose. Then a bright light enveloped her, which didn't change her general form but rather her clothing. When the light stopped existing, she was back into her regal black flexible armor.
The ability to do this was one of the bracelets that hung on her wrist. While two, one bracelet was an advanced teleporter that can apparently transport her from one corner of the galaxy to another, though it requires pre-entered coordinates to do so.
The other bracelet was a matter changer that reminded Vader of the ancient Rakata weapon factory, the Star Forge. The ancient shipyard, however, was an engineering marvel that only the Rakata, with their technology and dark side techniques, could create. But the megastructure was a massive space station that required energy from a star. Her matter changer that was in the structure of a bracelet seemed to only reform matter into its desired shape and size without large amounts of energy. No mere feat and was an engineering marvel in itself, possibly greater than the Star Forge. It was because of this bracelet that she was able to repair Vader's hand and parts of a suit in an annoying hug.
But this wonder technology was not easily accessed, as Vader presumed. Teleportation, somewhat. Matter changers, more so. As explained by Maxima, not many interstellar civilizations could develop teleporters easily. There were commercially available teleporters, but most of them were seen to be too expensive and bulky. Even if used as a new form of transportation for trade and movement of armies, it required heavy amounts of energy and data to properly transport one object to another place. The only group of beings capable of making worthwhile teleporters were those Rannians.
As for the matter changer, it was even rarer than the teleporters. All of this, Vader believed, he could study himself. To know what they can and cannot do so that the future empire can implement them to their fullest potential.
When done changing, Maxima pressed another button, and a blast of teleporter energy sparked into existence in front of her and swirled into a slow vortex. The crowd yelled in gasps and yelps as they didn't expect the energy to form as the wind from the portal was strong enough to move papers and other light materials.
Maxima extended her hand, and Vader grabbed it, "Let's go, my king."
Vader accepted the title but secretly said to himself, "And soon…Emperor." He looked into his new "love," "Very so…wife."
Maxim led her husband into the swirling portal of power, Vader was engulfed in light when he crossed the threshold after her. Sazu, the handmaiden, quickly went into the portal before it grew smaller and disappeared.
***
Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith, Lord of Warworld, King of Almerac, and the new husband to Queen Maxima of Almerac stepped out of the portal where his world went from a bright light to one that was a hallway in one of the Almeracian government buildings that held the Council of Nobles. Next to him was his new wife, Maxima. Behind her is Sazu, who just came out of the portal that ceased behind the handmaiden.
Maxima guided Vader through the highly decorated hallway with Sazu's closely behind. Maxima put her hand onto the bridge of her nose and grunted, "Sazu, is there a reason why I'm being called here?"
Her assistant responded with an accent that reminded Vader of those from the core worlds of his galaxy: "Count Vitha was not very…pleased to have you announce the wedding without informing the council and doing it at short notice." She looked at Vader and back at her Queen, "Also, he doesn't think Lord Vader is a proper candidate for the throne."
Maxima scoffed at Sazu's words, "Of course it's Vitha," she clung closer to Vader. "Hubby…" she cooed in a pleasing voice. "If you don't mind, let me do the talking; I'll try to take care of all of this so we can get back to what we were doing."
Seeing two large doors at the end of the hall with two guards on either side, Vader said, "As you wish."
At the doors, the two guards bowed to their queen, and the newly crowned king then opened the doors. The room that the doors opened to was dome-shaped. Across the room was a tall, curved table that was parallel to the curve of the room. Behind the desks were six highly dressed men in regal clothing, what Vader assumed to be these noblemen. On Vader's left was an expansive window that showed the tall city of Tae Tamarac, while the other wall was lined with servants and guards.
Entering the room and having the doors closed behind them, Vader was to the side of his new wife while she and Sazu stood in the middle of the room to converse with this council. Maxima looked at the man in the middle of the table. "Count Vitha," she greeted him with a not-so-happy manner.
This Count Vitha, in his forties', had brown hair with a widow's peak and slicked back, and a beard, had his arms on a marble table with his hands on his face. "Lady Maxima…do you know why we called you here?" The other noble councilors were not pleased with her either by the way they had their expressions.
Maxima rolls her eyes, "Is this about budget again?" She said that as if it were an usual annoyance: "I keep telling everyone here that—"
"No, my queen," he said to cut her off. Very rude in Vader's mind, yet Maxima simply allowed it. "We have several reasons actually," he pointed at Vader. "One of them is even in the room with us."
Maxima glanced at Vader for a quick second, then looked back at the council and said, "Well, you don't have to thank me for it." She gestured to herself with pride and was oblivious to what the count was saying. "I have finally got Almerac the King it deserves and—"
"And there lies the problem, my lady." He interrupts her again, annoying Vader. "That man you just married is not worthy of being a king or near one for that matter."
"What are you talking about?" She asked, "He fought valiantly and—"
"And what exactly? We've seen the holo-transmission from Warworld of his butchery there; I thought you understood that Almerac has no need for a killer. We want to a leader, not a psychopath."
"Now wait a minute," she tried to explain. "Vader is a Lord of the Sith like he told me, and he killed Mongul, which makes him ruler of Warworld. He can lead!" She looked at the Sith, "Right, honey?"
"Really?" Count Vitha questioned and raised an eyebrow at Vader, "Is this true, 'Dark Lord'? Can you explain exactly who and where this Sith that you rule apparently?"
Most of the room turned their heads toward Vader who didn't say anything for a long moment. He has no real plans to tell them the Sith or their history. If they talked about his title as if he were a lord of a specific land, Vader had owned several private properties, land, and planets across the empire. But now that didn't matter, though. If they thought the Sith were a race and wanted to see more, they would be equally disappointed. The Sith species, in the same name of his order, have been extinct for many millennia now. If they wanted to know about the Sith order, there were two, but now in this new realm, there was only one, he hoped at any rate.
"I am," he said after the pause ended. "The only Sith left, if that pleases you."
Some of the nobles exchanged looks, "Do you even have land that you own?" Vitha asked.
"If you mean by now, I own Warworld. If you mean before that, to put it simply, Count, none of that should be your concern."
"So you're saying that you won't tell us?"
"Yes," Vader replied bluntly.
Vitha went deeper into his chair and gazed at Maxima. "Clearly, my lady, this individual is not King material."
"Well, I get to say 'who's king and not'." She stated it firmly. "And I think you're forgetting your place, Vitha."
Count Vitha shook his head. "I think it is you who has forgotten their place. You are our Queen, and all of Almerac citizens have the duty to follow you. But as our Queen, you have responsibilities and a greater duty yourself. Responsibilities, you haven't been taken care of... for almost years." Maxima tried to speak, but Vitha let up her hand to stop her. Vader's eye twitched. "We have been warning you, Maxima. We have been trying to guide and consult you since you have ascended to the throne, and out of respect for your family that's been ruling this nation for generations, we allowed you to continue your rule even with your flaws. But we came to the conclusion that you haven't changed or actually improved at the slightest."
"Now wait a minute!" Maxima objected, putting her hands onto her hips. "I'm changed! I said I'd focus on ruling or whatever and stop looking for a husband. I followed what all of you said."
"I remember," Vitha admitted. "I also remember when you said that after De'Cine, one of your failed suitors, launched a coup against you because YOU weren't doing your royal duties to begin with."
Maxima shakily laughed, "Well, uh, it's the thought that counts…right?"
The bearded man narrowed his eyes, "We had enough of you, Maxima; barely has anything changed since you said you would pick up your duties; our subjects have been complaining and are getting roused up, and you brought in another failed suitor." He sighed, "I, my father, and his father before him proudly served your family as advisors." He gestured to the other noblemen, "As well as for the most members of the council. But your crimes of neglect cost us dearly."
He went up and got determined, "There has been talk around this council and some subjects that Almerac would be safer and more prosperous under a democratic form of government. What has happened under your reign, Maxima, that road seems more suitable. By the powers of this Council, the people of Almerac, and our beloved nation, we have come to the verdict that we shall do so. And for dishonoring your royal ancestors and this nation, you are hereby exiled from Almerac…never to return."
Maxima's eyes widen to shock and bewilderment. Sazu did the same, putting her hand on her mouth when she gasped. Vader didn't show a reaction due to his mask, but he was secretly furious. Part of it was how this count was talking to his wife, though he was annoyed about why, even though he shouldn't. Even though he did not love her, she was his, and no one could insult her without receiving massive repercussions.
Most of the anger, however, was this count's train of thought that could lead the people of this nation to ruin: democracy.
There is no such thing as equality. There are those born to lead and rule, then there are those born to follow and serve. Nature has proven this: the alpha of a wolf pack doesn't dilute himself that he is equal to a deer, or he must give up his position for the mutt's sake. He is in power for a reason; his strength has proven itself that the pack and the forest at large will be better under his rule and therefore prosperous. Mutts and cowardly deer wouldn't know what to do in the alpha's position and would only make mistakes, greedy choices, and destructive behaviors. They are not worthy of power.
This is made by nature by design and, at a greater scale, by the force. For the strong to lead. Yet this count wants to do something that not even animals do. Vader has seen democracies at work; the Old Republic was a cesspool that deserved to be destroyed down to the foundation. The Rebel alliance that he fought against wanted to bring back that galactic rule that will only bring back catastrophe.
He remembers the one line that he learned from his Sith teachings that was spoken by Darth Bane. "Equality is a lie...a myth to appease the masses. Simply look around, and you will see the lie for what it is. There are those with power, those with the strength and will to lead. And there are those meant to follow - those incapable of anything but servitude and a meager, worthless existence."
Not only was he furious at this man, but at his wife. Powerful as she was, physically and telepathically, she has let this simpleton rudely talk her down and simply let him strip her power that she had the right to from birth. For that, she was weak in that right. He will fix that in no time.
He went to Maxima, who was in between crying and staring off into space. "Are you going to do nothing?"
She shook her head slowly. "I can't; the council has the right to do that. And… I guess he's right; I don't deserve to be queen after all I've done."
Vader let his breathing cycle, "If you can't be a Queen, then perhaps you could be Empress."
His words made her lift her head at him and force her to give a look of confusion. "Empress?…"
Vader turned to face Vitha. "I am assuming that I am no longer King anymore?"
"I'm afraid not, Sith." Count Vitha said with confidence, as if he got rid of a pest.
"If I cannot rule Alemrac as King…then I will rule an Empire as Emperor." Vader proclaimed with noblemen murmuring to each other, "And Maxima, as my Empress."
The murmur grew louder as Vitha ended with a motion and stared at Vader, "As if you have any power to do so."
"Is this," Vader continued, "doubt on what I can do?"
The count smiled, "Yes."
Darth Vader extended his palm, the room's doors closed with unnatural speed, and the guards that were supposed to be loyal to their Queen and did nothing in her dethronement were now choking, dropping their weapons, then collapsing onto the polished floor. The servant girls screamed and tried to avert their eyes from dying guards. Before Vitha could do anything, he was propelled across the room, and his neck landed perfectly onto Vader's open hand.
The man tried to unlatch himself from Vader but it was fruitless. The Almeracians were more durable than humans; Maxima was proven to be the strongest and resist his strength, Vitha wasn't, and his weak neck was still being choked by his artificial arm. The noblemen couldn't do anything as their councilor was being strangled; Maxima and Sazu only watched with open eyes and mouths, servant girls huddled with each other from the frightening sight.
"Let me explain, Count," Vader said as he eased up his grip on the man so he wouldn't immediately die, "why democracy is a lie." He turned towards the large window that has the cityscape in view. He deliberately slowly paced at it. "There is no such thing as 'equality', Count. There are those who lead and those who follow. I have seen democracies at work and know what will inevitably happen." He was halfway to the window, no one stopped him, only listening to his speech. Vitha still struggled but couldn't do anything but listen.
"Your democracy will allow those who are unfit to rule. Your democracy will ignore the populace's needs while those who don't deserve their wealth profit from it. Your democracy is a joke. You count are a joke."
Vader finally reached the edge of the window. The room was totally silent, but his breathing was still heard. Vader faced the simpleton that was in his cybernetic grip and pulled him closer to hear his final words, "If you want the people to be closer to you, then I will give you the shortest route to that…"
Vader lifted Couth Vitha above his head with two hands. Vitha realized what was about to happen: "WAIT!" He screamed out, but whatever he tried to plead with was cut short as Vader launched the count forward with enough strength to send the man straight through the glass. The window broke and sent shards of glass flying downward alongside a screaming Count Vitha. The noblemen gasped, and the servants screamed in complete horror.
Vader looked down to see the man go from the top of the governmental tower to the sidewalk. He turned into a paste of red and gore. The wind flapping his cap, he turned around to the stunned room. "Are there any fools that wish to join Count Vitha on his trip?"
Everyone shook their heads, including some of the crying servant girls. He walked to Maxima and Sazu, who seemed to not be able to move after what transpired. Maxima looked into her husband and said, "Vader…you didn't need to…" She turned to the Window, "Do that…"
"You…had feelings for him?"
"Well…not exactly..but still."
"I did what needed to be done. His idea would have brought Almerac further into depths that it wouldn't be able to climb out of. He was a pest, and I took care of him as such." Maxima didn't say anything, nor did Sazu. Vader turned his attention to the still-living noblemen. "Regarding pests…" all of the noblemen lost their color. "Are there any men here that have the same ideals as Vitha?"
None stood or spoke up, cowardly as they were; they will not speak the truth. But Vader has the truth; the force has given him that. He went into their minds and knew who was with Vitha or not. "Very well…" he twisted a glove, and three out of the remaining five noblemen had their necks twisted in a preternatural way. Their bodies fell out of the chairs or slumped onto the marble table. The servant girls predictably screamed again and were shaking.
He looked onto the last two noblemen, who froze in terror, "Congratulations, you have proven to be loyal to peace and order. I shall expect you both to continue as such."
Maxima didn't say anything while Sazu spoke to Vader with a pleasing attitude and knowledge of what would happen if she said the wrong words, "My lord…you…you can't just do that. What will the public think about this?" She gestured to the desk, "What will their families think?"
Darth Vader let her pointless questions come to him as the howl of the winds was blown in the room due to the window shattered. "That is elementary, Sazu. We tell them what happened—that they attempted to have a coup against the Queen. And I acted accordingly to protect her."
"But…" she went on, "but they did so on the powers they were granted onto the council. They had the right to put down Maxima from the throne if given the right reason."
Vader considered her reasoning and asked a question of his own, "Do they have the power to change the government of this nation?"
Sazu was going to say something, but it was caught in her throat. She made a moment of silence so that she could think. A person who is involved in Almeracian politics and ceremonies would know the laws. She closed her eyes defeatedly, "No, my lord…but-,"
Vader pointed at her, and she recoiled, "Then it is a Coup! No matter how anyone could manipulate words to their advantage. They have committed treason against the throne and therefore Almerac itself! For that, the Council of Nobles will be dissolved permanently."
Sazu's eyes went wide. "But my Lord, the Council has been in power for as long as Almerac existed! They dealt with things that the crown wouldn't be able to manage!"
The Dark Lord gazed at his wife, who returned the look with a nonchalant shrug. Vader looked back to Sazu and said, "And look at what has happened. Generations of letting this council exist have led to nothing but treason now. The system that Almerac was built on is no longer suitable for these times. If the nation needs to survive this galaxy, a change will need to happen. A new order needs to be created. Almerac's past is behind us, a new regime will replace it, Almerac will no longer be Almerac, but rather reorganized into the first Galactic Empire."
Sazu was shocked, and so was Maxima. But the queen went to her husband. "Vader…a galactic empire? Well now, going bold, are we, love?
"We either bring peace to this galaxy that has not seen anything of it, or we are nothing."
Maxima clung to Vader, "Emperor Vader?" She said as if trying out the word for the first time, "And…Empress Maxima?…I like the sound of that!"
"But my lady," Sazu tries to make more complaints. "How will-,"
"Nuh uh, Sazu" Maxima ragged her finger. "It's Empress now."
"Of course Empress," Sazu corrected herself, "Who will take on the responsibilities of the council then?"
Vader didn't say anything, and Maxima put a finger up to her chin as if she was going to say anything useful. Vader considered a solution. "If there needs to be a position in this new system to be made so one may take the responsibilities of the council, then perhaps one should be made for you…" he points at Sazu, "Chancellor."
Aghast and bewildered, Sazu gestures to herself, "Me?…Chancellor. But there's never been a position in Almerac's history! I wouldn't know what to do."
"Oh relax, Sazu." Maxima said, "You're smart, you'll figure it out, besides, a promotion wouldn't hurt."
A pause of silence reached the new chancellor, and she nodded in gloomy acceptance, "I understand…my Emperor and my Empress."
Vader placed hands into his belt. "For now, chancellor, we have many things to conduct and change under this Empire. But that can wait for a moment. The Empire's first priority is to secure Warworld and everything that was owned by Mongul."
Sazu bowed, "What is your wish?"
"Send a naval task force to Warworld. If there are any of Mongul's men that do not comply and surrender their weapons and ships, they are to be put to death. Once order has been established on the planet, the rest of what used to be his empire will follow."
"I will contact the admiralty about their orders. Anything else?"
"Yes, there is an important task I need accomplished." He paused. "Is the Royal Guard as highly trained as they claimed to be?"
It was Maxima's turn to speak, "They are one of the finest soldiers in all of Almerac, they loyal to me, my love."
Vader made a questionable look at the dead guards who allowed their queen to lose her throne. "That, my dear," he went back. "Is not entirely correct," his gaze met Sazu's. "But they will suffice for now. I want a detachment of this guard to search and take control of an important weapon of Mongul. Before Draaga met his fate, he told me of a laser weapon Mongul was able to use that could destroy an entire planet." Sazu and Maxima's eyes widened, and they looked at each other. Vader continued, "Inform them that they will need to take control of this laser, if it is on Warworld or on another planet. Once found, use any means necessary to take control of the weapon. Is this understood?"
"Umm…yes, my Emperor, I will inform Sh'Kirry of this important task."
"One more addendum, Chancellor. When Warworld and the surrounding systems are under Imperial control, I request Larfleeze to be governor of Warworld."
Surprised was shown in Sazu's face. "That dog? Are you sure, my Emperor, to let a non-Almeracian in a position that high?"
"The dog has been useful to me," Vader answered, "and will be loyal like one. This will be a reward for his service. Being an alien himself, the hapless populace there will have less reason to become rowdy if he is in charge rather than an Almeracian."
"Very well," Sazu says, "I will do my best, my Emperor."
Vader points at Sazu, "Don't fail me…chancellor." He musingly reminded her of the title and privilege she was granted. Some color left her skin that was already light by default. Vader gestured, and the doors opened, He walked off, leaving the two stunned noblemen, the newly appointed chancellor, and the shaking servant girls in the room, with Maxima behind him.
"My, my, hubby," she said fairly excitedly, "never thought a man could take charge like that."
"One needs to do what needs to be done so that they can lead others to glory," he said.
"Well," some color entered her, "Since Sazu will be busy for a bit, maybe we could start our…" played with his arm, "Honeymoon."
Out of the moment to stall in the situation he was currently and forced to be in, he came up with a half truth, He stopped and made himself grab her hand to continue the act. "In time, my dear. But I cannot enjoy myself nor rest when I know that the Empire is secured and safe. When Almerac has no enemies"
Maxima was more flustered and fanned her face with a hand as if she were unbearably hot. "Oh Vader, taking responsibility like a man." She caressed his mask, "But if you're busy, then we could do it at a later date."
Relieved, Vader pretended to accept. "Of course…my love."
***
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