"I can't believe they let you teach."

The ramp of the shuttecraft lowered towards the floor of the docking back with a hiss of hydraulics and steam.

Vader strode down and walked directly towards the Death Star administrator, Moff Jerjerrod. The long lines of Stormtroopers and naval officers might not have existed at all as far as he was concerned.

Jerjerrod swallowed hard, trying to hold him composure as he fell in step with the Sith. "Lord Vader, this is an unexpected pleasure. We're honored by your presence," he said.

Vader barely repressed a snort. "You may dispense with the pleasantries," he said, not slowing down. "I'm here to put you back on schedule."

"I assure you, Lord Vader, my men are working as fast as they can," Jerjerrod replied, pursing his lips.

It was very obvious that Vader didn't believe him. "Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them," he suggested.

"I tell you, this station will be operational as planned," Jerjerrod insisted.

Vader stopped and turned. "The Emperor does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation," he said.

Jerjerrod went pale. "But he asks the impossible," he hissed, not exactly sure why he thought that Vader would care. "I need more men."

Vader was supremely unmoved. "Then perhaps you can tell him when he arrives," he replied.

"The Emperor's coming here?" the moff squeaked, aghast.

Vader nodded. "That is correct, Commander. And he is most displeased with your apparent lack of progress."

"We shall double our efforts," Jerjerrod said quickly.

Vader was fairly certain that wasn't going to save him. "I hope so, Commander, for your sake," he said. Not that he really cared. "The Emperor is not as forgiving as I am."

The way the moff's face lost all of its color was decidedly satisfying. This was what he was, who he was.

Darth Vader. Terror of the galaxy.

It was pointless to pretend that anything could change.

It wasn't that Vader thought that Aeryn's suggestion of taking out the Emperor's clones had a shot in hell of working--or even that he was remotely considering the possibility--it was just that Byss was...in the Deep Core.

Nowhere on his way home from Endor.

Shut up.

Dark Lords don't have to explain themselves.

Sly Moore, the administrator of the cloning facility, met Vader at the landing platform. "My Lord," she said, inclining her head. "We had not been told to expect you."

"I prefer to be unexpected," Vader growled, swooping towards the lab.

"How are the experiments progressing?" he asked.

Sly fell into step. "Same as always," she said. "Tell the Emperor that our percentage of successful conversations of prior Jedi to...more malleable officer material continues to be stable. He will have his officer corps on schedule."

Vader hated this plan of Palpatine's--a Force-sensitive officer corps. Palpatine argued that it would make for an easier to control and tactically more efficient military. Vader privately believed that the Force wasn't something that you could just plug into and control quite that easily.

"The schedule has been moved up," he said. "The Emperor has...plans for these new clones. The coordinates will be transmitted to you for their final destination in the next few days."

Sly raised an eyebrow. "New project?"

Vader, busy examining the Spaarti cloning devices, made no reply.

After it was clear she wouldn't be receiving an answer, Sly rolled her eyes. "Fine. Are you satisfied with the way the facility is running?" Her tone made it obvious how little his opinion would matter to her. Sly had been with Palpatine from his time as Senator. She knew precisely how valuable she was.

After a long pause--Vader wouldn't be pushed into a petty battle of wills on this, not when he wasn't technically supposed to be on Byss in the first place--he nodded. "I find it satisfactory," he said. "I will pass along my thoughts to the Emperor."

It wouldn't be wise to tell a Sith Lord to make certain the door didn't hit him in the ass on his way out, but Sly Moore came close to saying it anyway. Instead she bit her tongue, bowed, and watched Vader's TIE fighter take off again.

Only then did she blow out a breath. "What was that about?" she muttered.

The Emperor had woken Vader up before dawn.

Again.

And demanded he come back to check on the Death's Star's progress.

Again.

Which meant Vader would be spending days stuffed into his TIE fighter and flying out to Endor.

Again.

So he was in a pissy mood.

Again.

[OOC: Door's closed, post's open! Contents of conversation with Rory and Aeryn are NFB! Void where prohibited, sales tax applicable in Washington State...]

The Undeveloped Story - Anberlin

The poster of Farrah Fawcett stared down at Vader as he banged things around in his office.

The Emperor had been in touch ridiculously early that morning.

Now Vader had some contractors to scare as soon as possible. He'd argued that if he didn't hold office hours, young Skywalker might get suspicious.

It had nothing to do with his thought that building a second Death Star was pointless. And that he really didn't want to fly all the way to freaking Endor.

Really.

The door to his office was cracked open.

[OOC: Contents of conversation with Rory NFB, please and thank you!]