The Spider and the Storm

"That would be a waste of resources. The navy is bored; we should send the admirals out to have a little fun. Let them feel important." Tarkin watched Vader carefully, trying to decipher what he thought, how he felt. The helmet made it impossible, and for a moment he recalled Anakin Skywalker's face from the vision Sirejj had shown him, his unbridled emotion and the madness in the damaged eyes. It would be easier if he had the helmet off. But of course that was impossible.

He waved his hand in dismissal. "It wouldn't take up any more resources than the admirals. They're quite capable alone." He peered into the hologram, watching Tarkin carefully. "What troubles you?" He changed the subject abruptly.

Tarkin's mouth twitched. He was fine. He could divert this. He could get the conversation back on track. But clearly he was giving off some sign that all was not well, otherwise Vader wouldn't be bringing this up.

He needed to set this right. He needed to clear the air or else he wouldn't get any sleep. He wouldn't be able to think straight.

All would be well if he spoke up now, right now, before Vader thought this was a slight against him.

Tarkin tugged at his collar, then clasped his hands in front of him.

"I believe we owe each other an apology," he said finally, keeping his voice measured.

Vader was very unsure of what that meant. Every scenario raced through his mind, and though he did his best to remain stoic, he leaned forward a little in his chair. What could Tarkin possibly be talking about?

There was one unsettled scenario, but there was no possible way he could know...

"I do not grasp your meaning." His tone had changed slightly. It was sharper, colder. He relied on his mask to hide the concern on his face.

"No, I expect not." Tarkin forced a brief smile. "So I'll go first." His hands clenched slightly. "I distrusted your judgement on a crucial issue, and instead of asking you directly I looked into the matter privately. For that I do apologize; I should have trusted you. You've proven yourself to be an excellent strategist and a loyal friend." His vision blurred, and he took another sip of coffee. "It had to do with Atoa. What you did there." Tarkin cleared his throat. "But you killed one of my admirals without my knowledge and then lied to me. There was trust broken on your side, too." He paused. "May I ask why you and Emperor Palpatine thought it prudent not to share this information with me?"

Beneath the mask, Vader's yellowed eyes widened. For a moment all he felt was stunned shock, but that was swiftly replaced by the sting of alarm and anger. So he had been sneaking around behind his back. All that time spent on Eriadu and Tarkin had intentionally led him to believe there was nothing of concern happening on Atoa.

The realization struck him that if Tarkin had lied for so long about this, and if it had him as disturbed as he appeared, everything may be a lie. What else had he been plotting? Who else knew? His mind scrambled in a panic to organise itself.

He knew, then. He knew about Garoche and the cursed priestess. Any pity Vader felt towards the boy had been smothered by his blind rage for what she had done. The memory she had desecrated. What did Tarkin know of that? Did he?

Vader, still reeling, forced his shoulders to relax. His mind was spinning. His heart was pounding in his chest. What could he say? What would Tarkin's response be? How much did he know?

"You can...surely gather that we thought it wise to spare you the knowledge of the..." He hesitated. "...treason that took place there."

Tarkin's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not going to wither away to nothing over a treasonous act," he said sharply, then reminded himself who he was talking to. "It was early in our working relationship," he allowed. "And I thank you for rooting out the threat, of course. But it insults me that you thought I needed to be 'spared.'" His pale eyes searched Vader's expressionless features on the grainy hologram. "Ignorance breeds distrust, as you've seen. That ommission of information led to my loss of trust in you, and that led me on a roundabout and rather exhausting journey. But as I said, it's resolved. I know what happened, and I apologize for doubting your judgement. You did the right thing." He gripped his coffee tighter. "And I assure you, had I realized what was going on, I would have carried out the sentences myself."

Vader was rarely one at a loss for words, but Tarkin had succeeded in stunning him into silence for a few agonizing moments.

"I...understand your feelings." He said after some time, his hands clenched even tighter together as they rested on the table in front of him. "Rest assured the actions of mine and my master were done to preserve the Empire and limit the...potential internal conflict. It should have been revealed to you sooner, and not left for other hands to discover."

Others. Vader's mind snapped into a sharp focus. There were others involved. His wife must know of these things. If that were the case, the Treacle could prove a problem. And there was one other, the Zabrak. He'd been an accomplice of the undermining from the beginning, Vader was sure of it. He bared his teeth beneath the mask. And to think, he'd been so close to snapping his neck on Eriadu. Tarkin had implied that he'd been killed, but now, Vader was inclined to doubt everything Tarkin had shared with him this past year. For all he knew, his friend was planning on turning on them all.

But then, there were his words. "I would have carried out the sentences myself." The sentence was wound tightly with a cacophony of different emotions that Vader was at a loss for deciphering them.

"I'm glad this is sorted, then," Tarkin said, smoothing his tunic. He was waiting to feel better, but surprisingly, he did not. "I can get on with the important work, now--rooting out those rebel cells. I'm sure Admiral Motti will be anxious to be of assistance; he's been cooped up on his Star Destroyer for so long. Oh--have you heard from Director Krennic? I believe he's in a tiff with our Grand Admiral Thrawn again. I'd planned to address that sooner rather than later."

And he moved on without so much as a flicker of sadness in his eyes. He brushed the dust from his coat as if to sort away the last five minutes of their conversation like it had meant nothing at all.

"Motti would enjoy a chance to exterminate a few pests." Vader said, his voice shallow. His mind was still circling around the previous conversation. "Krennic is at his usual games, he and the Grand Admiral have had several intense discussions as of late."

"I'd like to see a little friendly competition between them," Tarkin said, sipping his coffee. "This unrest is bound to split our forces eventually--we both know the TIE Defenders are a lost cause, but we can't just hand the funds to Krennic. There needs to be a more...tactful way to distribute the funds as we please. Thrawn needs to feel seen."

"I sense you have an idea in mind?" Vader allowed him to lead the conversation. His mind was severely preoccupied.

"A few. There's some supply issue on Project Stardust...perhaps we suggest that if Thrawn can solve the problem and prove that the supplies could be better used for his project, we tell him we'll divert the funding. However, if he can't solve it and Krennic proves he has more use for the supplies, we'll award it to him. That way they both feel like they're doing something useful and the money stays with Project Stardust."

"I would support you in that decision." Vader muttered. "It would at the very least keep them busy enough to keep them on task. Krennic has become increasingly pestering as of late."

"Without a doubt." Tarkin laughed wearily. "He's called me in the middle of the night, you know. I was awake, but once or twice last week I got a holo message from him in the wee hours of the morning. We really must find him a babysitter."