The Grand Moff’s sudden departure had brought about a swift crackdown aboard the Death Star. Technicians, officers, and general personnel, who had been in contact with the Moff close to his time of death, were put on suspension as the Imperial Security Bureau began the arduous process of investigating the circumstances of Tarkin’s murder. Eventually, ISB would find the evidence they were looking for, and it would incriminate an inconsequential officer--leading to their inevitable trial, conviction, and execution. The public would be fed lies while the internal components continued to work in secrecy, but that was the duty of the Emperor’s Hand.

Following Darth Vader’s emergency transmission after Alderaan’s demise, Mara Jade had been tasked by her master to oversee the delicate transition of leadership. With Tarkin dead, Grand Admiral Ewett Niteren was appointed as the leading official on the Death Star, but Niteren’s convoy wouldn’t arrive for a few more rotations, giving the Rebellion forces on Yavin IV more than enough time to scatter into the recesses of the galaxy again. Damn it, Mara swore to herself, You better have a good explanation for this, Vader.

As the last of the special "cargo" was loaded onto the Emperor’s personal Lambda-class shuttle, Current, Mara made a mental note of every face and troop number in the private hangar. Seven... Jade began running through the different methods her master had taught her to get rid of loose ends. The secret codes that only she and a handful of others knew, which allowed Imperial logbooks and reports to be altered, played themselves back and forth with perfect accuracy--the Emperor made sure she could remember even the most complex sequences of characters from only a glance. Just seven; easy enough.

Mara stepped away from the ramp as the stormtroopers exited the shuttle and stood in front of her awaiting new orders--all seven troopers and officers, all of whom would meet with various accidents within a week of one another. All of whom would have been running--just like the rebels--if they had any idea of Jade’s intentions for them.

“Dismissed.” The group made their way out of the hangar, leaving her to her privacy. She entered the shuttle and went through the task of confirming she had everything she needed for the journey back to Coruscant. She passed by each room on the ship, opening and closing the doors, crossing off the names on her mental list.

First, the bodies of Queen Breha Organa and Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin. Mara opened the door and saw the motionless forms laying within two separate preservation capsules. Tarkin’s face looked as severe as ever, his eyes furrowed in a way that made it seem like he was judging Mara’s posture even in death. A thin-lipped frown permanently hung on the Moff’s mouth. Mara guessed Tarkin didn’t like the idea of someone else taking the credit for his big project.

She then turned her eyes to the Queen. Her face seemed to have an almost ethereal serenity to it. The Queen’s face held a smile, as if in her last moments she was reassured by the sight of something... Seeing the two corpses side by side--one angry and the other happy--Mara would’ve assumed Organa had destroyed the Moff’s homeworld, not the other way around. Jade felt a surge of animosity seeing the Queen, a proud traitor, be so content with her death. Looks don’t matter when you’re rebel scum, Mara reminded herself, closing the door as a wave of hatred filled her.

Second, Bail Organa, Viceroy of Alderaan. Opening the next door, Mara’s contempt for the traitors started to slip. The man before her was nothing like the charismatic individual she had seen speaking so many times in the Imperial Senate. Everything about him was broken--he didn’t even bother looking up to see who had come to check on him, instead burying his red eyes in his hands and returning to his sorrow. Jade closed the door as a voice she didn’t recognize rose to combat her surge of empathy. Organa deserves whatever he got. The voice asserted. All the traitors do…this is the price of crossing the Empire.

Mara had a reprieve from her mental debate as she made the much longer transition to the final room. Her black boots echoed in the virtually empty shuttle, and she could make out the reflection of her dark blue uniform against the polished silver metal. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her blaster pistol rested comfortably in its waist holster. As she stopped outside the final door, she turned to acknowledge the towering shape that seemingly materialized behind her.

“Lord Vader.” Mara tried to muster respect in her voice, but she still blamed him for the Rebellion's escape. “The Emperor is most displeased by your failure to oversee the Grand Moff’s safety.”

The black behemoth let out a particularly hostile breath from his respirator. “My master’s displeasure is for him to express, Jade.” He looked down at her, unmoving.

Mara and Vader didn’t necessarily care for one another, that much was obvious. And given recent events, that dislike had the potential to explode into a race for the Emperor’s favor. Palpatine’s Hand versus his apprentice; in a battle, Jade didn’t stand a chance, but if she could destroy the dark lord's image, then her master might dispose of him like anyone else.

Mara nudged her head in the direction of the door. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Vader, I have business to attend to.”

The Sith didn’t move, but he did reach out with his arm to point at Mara. It was a habit Vader used to assert his dominance, and one that was bound to get his finger ripped off if he kept it up.

“You will not be entering this room, Hand.” Vader’s deep voice lacked any doubt.

Jade felt her eyes narrow in annoyance. “The Emperor said--”

“The Emperor is not here.” He cut her off. His finger was lowered, but the tension rose.

“Do you want him to be?” Mara hissed, a malicious glint in her emerald green eyes. The words would have been nonsensical coming from anyone else, but not Mara Jade. Being the Emperor’s Hand, she had a strong connection to him, and could channel his presence from almost anywhere in the galaxy. Her eyes were his, her thoughts were his, her voice was his. Mara Jade was the Emperor’s will.

Vader recognized this, and he stood straighter so that he was no longer looking down on Mara. Still, he stepped in front of her and keyed in a special lock code, one Mara didn’t recognize. So, Vader knows some things I don’t? The thought was bitter but she swallowed it.

“No one sees the princess without my permission.” He made his way down the silver hallway towards the Current's exit, pausing for a moment. “The Emperor isn’t the only one prone to wrath.” With that, Darth Vader turned the corner, his footsteps and heavy breathing slowly fading into the ambience of the ship.

Mara watched the Sith go. She loathed the black cloaked man more than she wanted to admit, and she promised herself that as soon as the Emperor willed it, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, would die.