Tarkin lingered in the meeting room of the Ruling Council, looking out upon the dying lights of Coruscant. His internal sense of time was still quite off from Palace time, feeling it was midday rather than dawn. He did not consider it petty to call a meeting of the Ruling Council before daybreak to suit his needs rather than their own, however. He was unlikely to stay long on Coruscant before heading back to Sentinel Base and thus cared not for the complaints of the upper echelon of the Imperial ranks – they would do well to suffer more often, to forget the comforts they hoarded to themselves within the Palace.
But he did appreciate the view.
He turned marginally at a subtle sound behind him, fabric brushing tile.
"Lord Vader," he said, slight bemusement coloring his tone.
Since their experience tracking the Carrion Spike and destroying Rancit's dissident cell, what had once been a chilly relationship between them had – not warmed, perhaps, but steadied into a professional partnership. He admired Vader's abilities and felt, though Vader did not confirm it, that Vader accorded him the same respect.
"ISB is displeased with you," Vader said.
Tarkin raised his eyebrows at that. Vader strode across the room to stand by his side and looked down at Tarkin, his expression shadowed by his hood.
"Well done."
Tarkin chuckled. ISB was nothing less than the pettiest, most intrusive branch of the New Order, obsessed with gaining power over others through recording the scandalous minutiae of theirs lives. Hardly any sort of boon to actually maintaining the Empire. Tarkin was unsurprised that Vader agreed.
They had always agreed on a great many things, even when Vader had gone by his true name.
"The Emperor commands that you remain on Coruscant for the duration of the Senate session."
Tarkin frowned.
"I hardly see the purpose of that."
Vader drew himself to his full height as he glared at Tarkin.
"There is unrest. Senators who are spreading scurrilous rumors and unashamed to do so in the full light of day. The Emperor believes we must present a show of strength."
"And then execute these traitors."
There was a hint of a smile beneath Vader's hood, the glint of yellow eyes.
"Indeed."
Rumors abounded in the Empire. Distasteful as Tarkin found them, he was surprised that the Emperor found them threatening enough to bother dispelling. Although, he supposed, in the aftermath of Rancit's treason and Teller's attacks, it was somewhat more understandable.
"What rumors are these?" he asked idly. "Perhaps we can simply prove them unfounded."
There was a great shudder that shimmered through the air; Vader's rage made visible. Tarkin bit back his reaction. He did not fear Vader's anger, though he knew its power. It was almost exhilarating to be near.
"That the Emperor has taken me as his lover," Vader spat eventually. He began to pace, hands clenched as his sides.
"Ah."
Those rumors. They were hardly new. When the Jedi were deemed traitors, when the only man who stood by Chancellor Palpatine's side was the once vaunted Hero With No Fear, those rumors had already been so old than many people accepted them as self-evident fact. That Skywalker had been in close contact with the Emperor since his childhood, favored above rich lobbyists and powerful Senators, was known to everyone. But fear of Vader's wrath had quieted the whispers for quite a long time.
Vader's turn of phrase understated the rumor, as Tarkin had initially heard it. He was not thought to be the Emperor's lover – but instead his 'psychotic fucktoy'.
Vader suddenly tensed, swinging around to glare at Tarkin, his jaw clenched and face ashen under his hood. Tarkin knew his abilities could hardly be underestimated; yet he also knew that Jedi were rarely true telepaths.
"The Emperor has proposed a solution," Vader said.
Tarkin relaxed marginally. He had not heard that thought after all.
He clasped his hands behind his back and turned his attention back to the encroaching dawn, watching the lights of the city wink out one by one.
"That you take a lover publicly?" he asked.
The conclusion was obvious, but the calculus was more complex. Vader's image was twofold – the noble Jedi, never fallen from his loyalty to order and justice, and the volatile, vicious Sith Lord who punished all who opposed his Emperor. For him to expose the human side of himself as a public relations deflection would certainly rankle.
"I will never betray my wife," Vader snarled.
Tarkin gave him a surprised look. Jedi did not have wives. It seemed that, for all that he thought he knew of Vader, there was yet more he did not. He reconsidered the depth of anger Vader was showing at the Emperor's plan. These rumors struck at more than Vader's reputation or the Emperor's. They cut at the one secret he had preserved in both his personas.
But for all Vader's fervency, Tarkin suspected his declaration was quite beside the point. Had he a wife now, this matter would be simpler to resolv