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Chapter Text

Vader was in a foul mood when he returned to his quarters; his interrogation of the Princess had proven to be entirely fruitless.

Interrogations using pain alone had never been overly effective, causing the subject to babble whatever it was they thought their interrogators wanted to hear. Knowing this from several first-hand experiences, Vader augmented his sessions with psychoactive drugs and his own command of the Force, allowing him to direct their thoughts to the truths that they fought to conceal.

Her Highness had proven uniquely able to withstand his mental probing, however. An admirable yet highly frustrating trait.

He stalked over to his comm station, bracing himself to report his failure to Tarkin. The two of them had an efficient working relationship, and as much of a rapport as Vader's grudges would allow - but he was wary of the man's growing place in his Master's inner circle. Ever since the collapse of the Inquisitorius, Vader had perceived his Master's favor for him waning. Any and all subsequent failures merely served to expedite this process.

The light on his console was blinking, informing him that a message had been received and stored in his absence. A curious thing. Nobody with high enough clearance to access his comm lines ever bothered to leave such messages. If the matter was so urgent, they simply used his mobile comm instead.

The Force rippled around him as his hand approached the button to open the message. Curious indeed.

The holo message that appeared bore the visage of one Viceroy Bail Organa.

"Lord Vader," he began solemnly. "I hope this message reaches you before Leia has been executed."

Organa took a deep breath. He looked unwell.

"I'm sure you're already aware that I have eyes within the Imperial Navy. One of my contacts has informed me that you have captured Princess Leia. Indeed, I have been told that you plan to interrogate her personally."

Pain passed briefly over the Viceroy's face, but he mastered himself quickly.

"I have sent this message because I now know that the only way to save Leia's life is to tell you the truth."

A pause, as Organa gathered his nerve.

"And the truth, Lord Vader, is that Leia is your biological daughter. Please protect her, Anakin - if not for her own sake, then for Padmé's."

The message continued to play for a few more seconds, but Vader didn't hear a word of it.

Princess Leia Organa. His daughter.

The thought of it was absurd. A transparent ploy to keep the rebel Princess alive.

And yet, Organa knew that lying was futile. Confirming his assertions would be all too easy.

Of course, if what Organa said was true, then the official records of the Princess' genome would've been tampered with. By slicing, or by finding a way to confound the test, it certainly wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. It was therefore necessary to obtain a fresh sample and analyze it himself.

The Princess was sitting upright when he entered her cell, and stiffened visibly upon registering who had come to visit her. No doubt, she anticipated another round of interrogation.

That may yet come, depending on the outcome of his investigations.

He resisted the temptation to taunt her, despite the lingering defiance in her gaze. "I require a strand of your hair," he said, without preamble.

She eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

Vader held out his hand. "You are not in a position to refuse," he pointed out. He would rather not have to take one by force. It was beneath both of their dignities.

Lips pursing, she reached up and plucked a stray flyaway from the top of her head. Her hair was still styled in the elaborate manner of royalty, despite the days of confinement - a matter of pride, no doubt.

She placed the short strand in the palm of his hand, which he closed tightly.

He left without another word.

When the medical droid returned the results, the walls of Vader's quarters expanded, and the transparisteel of his viewport cracked.

"Leia," he began, her given name feeling awkward on his tongue. He wondered suddenly if Padmé had been the one to name her, but quashed the thought before he could linger on it. "I am your father."

He wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting. Outrage, perhaps. Denial, certainly. She was his enemy, and had been for many years. Her disdain for him was obvious even without the way it seeped into the Force. But she reacted with nothing so dramatic, favoring him instead with a slight creasing of her brows, a tightening of the mouth. "I see," she said.

He sensed her distress, her revulsion, but also...resignation. "You know it to be true," he stated.

"I've known I was adopted for as long as I can remember," she said. "Did my father tell you so that you would spare my life?"

That traitor was not her father. "Astute as always," he said.

The frown deepened a fraction. "You've never been a liar, Lord Vader. And neither has my father. It's...an unfortunate coincidence."

The words enraged him more than any denial could have. "There are no coincidences, Leia. This is the will of the Force."

"Maybe. But it doesn't really make a difference. This changes nothing."

"It changes everything!" he exclaimed, jabbing a finger in the air. "You are my daughter."

"No!" She stood up abruptly, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She shook with anger. "I am no daughter of yours, Lord Vader. Do not mistake your contribution to my genome as a claim on fatherhood!" She took a deep breath, dark eyes flashing. "You never struck me as the sentimental type. I'm still "rebel scum", am I not? Why not finish what you started before?"

She was bating him, he knew. She needed to believe that nothing had changed – that their connection was meaningless. And perhaps she was right. What did this impudent girl mean to him, even with her genetic connection? "Do not think I won't," he said. And he could, if he summoned enough hatred. He had struck down the remnants of Skywalker's life before.

Leia raised her chin. "Then go ahead. I can't stop you."

His rage boiled. It would be so easy to reach forward with the Force and choke the life from her. Watch as the spark left those brown eyes once and for all.

Just as he had with her mother.

Please protect her, Anakin - if not for her own sake, then for Padmé's.

Pushing those thoughts forcefully aside, he said, "It need not come to that. Join me, and together we can destroy the Emperor. We can rule the Galaxy, as father and daughter."

She gazed at him silently for a moment, as if digesting his words, then said, "That's your pitch?"

He said nothing.

She sighed. "First of all, what gives you the idea that I have any desire to rule the Galaxy?"

A pause, and then: "It's the most efficient means of achieving your ends."

She actually laughed at that. "Ah yes, of course. The most efficient way to restore democracy is clearly to become a dictator. How could I have thought otherwise?"

His anger intensified. "You are arrogant," he said, "and lack perspective. How do you hope to impose any kind of political order on a Galaxy in chaos?"

"Your "order" causes nothing but suffering," she replied, all hint of mirth leaving her. Her eyes were cold, calculating. For a moment, they reminded him very much of Padmé's on a bad day. "Allow me to make a counteroffer, Lord Vader: you join me, we destroy the Emperor, and you help me to build a new order from the ashes of the Empire."

"You can't be serious," he said, and even the vocabulator couldn't completely filter out the incredulity in his voice. "This is not a negotiation. You will join me, or be destroyed."

She smirked coldly. "I don't believe you."

"Then you are a fool."

"Maybe I am," she said, crossing her arms. "But I just don't. For whatever reason, you want me to acknowledge our familial bond. I don't imagine it's from any kind of affection – that really would be foolish. But you do need me for something."

This was why Vader didn't care for politicians. "It is the will of the Force that revealed you to me," he said. It was the first time in years that he'd bothered to measure his words with anyone but his Master. "I do indeed believe that this revelation has a greater purpose."

Leia was unmoved. "Which is to help you overthrow Palpatine and take his throne for yourself. At which point I'll take on the role that you currently have: suppressing all dissent, perceived or real, without a care for the lives I ruin in the process."

Vader resisted the urge to reach forward and grasp her shoulders. "You will understand, once you embrace the Dark Side."

She laughed again. "I admit, I don't know much about the Force, but I suppose this "Dark Side" is what gives you all your little tricks?" She quirked an eyebrow. "Do you really think the promise of telekinesis is enough to make me betray everything I've ever cared about?"

"The Force is more powerful than you can comprehend!" He thundered, angered at her blasphemy. She knew nothing, and yet she presumed to mock the Dark Side! Anyone else would already be dead for such presumptuousness.

But...he did need her. He could sense that plainly in the Force.

Her amusement fell away, leaving nothing but durasteel on her face. "I don't care," she said. And he could sense that she meant it.

He was promising her power beyond her wildest dreams...and she didn't care. It was baffling.

"I won't lie," she continued, "I'm not exactly eager to die. But if the only other option is joining the Empire, it's a sacrifice that I'm willing to make. So if you really think the "will of the Force" is that important, then you'll at least consider my offer." Finally, she laid down her ultimatum. "There are three choices, Vader: keep me as a prisoner, and I'll resist until my dying breath; kill me, and lose any chance of changing my mind; or join me, and I'll tolerate your presence for as long as you're an asset. It's only with the last option that you'll get the chance to make your case. You plan to betray the Emperor anyway, after all. May as well do it now, if you really do need my help to defeat him."

He couldn't deny that her assessment was compelling. Coercion, murder, or capitulation: his only three options. "I can be very persuasive, your highness," he said.

"If my suffering and eventual death are what you desire, Lord Vader, then I'm in no position to stop you," she replied coolly.

He gazed at her for a few moments, taking in the plains of her face and the fire in her eyes, and decided that he would grant her a swift death – if it came to that. In reality, he only had two options.

Her cries of agony were not something he ever wished to experience again.

"I will give you time to consider," he said, at length.

She snorted, taking a seat on the cell's platform. "Whatever you say, Lord Vader."

Chapter Text

Alone in her cell, Leia had entirely too much time to think.

Their confrontation kept running through her head, almost like she was watching a glitching holofilm. She remembered everything she'd thought and said, and yet it seemed, paradoxically, like it had all been done by somebody else.

Darth Vader, the Emperor's dog, was her biological father.

In her shock, her diplomatic training had taken over. She'd seen an opening, seen the leverage she'd held over him, and pressed her advantage mercilessly.

Frankly, it was a miracle that she was still alive.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, even though her father - the real one, not the monster - couldn't hear her. She swallowed down the sudden wash of helpless sadness, the hint of resentment. She had no doubt that he had planned to tell her eventually. When she was mature enough to handle it, perhaps.

It was evident now that she lacked such maturity.

And if her father had known about it all this time, then Obi-Wan must have as well. So what exactly had he seen in Leia that had reminded him of her biological father? 

She wouldn't allow herself to cry, though. Even knowing that she had a monster's blood flowing through her veins; even knowing that her capture had made her father sacrifice everything in order to save her.

Perhaps Vader would spare her life, or perhaps he would kill her. Either way, he would now be part of her life in a manner that she had never conceived possible - not even in her bleakest of nightmares.

If she cried, Vader won.

And he'd already won far too much.

When he came for her again, it was to bring her to Tarkin. She expected him to taunt her, to dish out one of his infamously terrible puns, but he remained entirely silent, save for the sound of his breathing.

It was almost a relief when Tarkin came into sight, her hatred towards him comforting in its familiarity.

"Governor Tarkin," she said, acidly, "I should've expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board." The barb was meant as much for Vader as Tarkin. Vader was a creature of pride, and his subordination to any but the Emperor must have rankled fiercely.

Behind her, Leia could almost feel the tension coming off Vader in waves - silently urging her not to provoke Tarkin needlessly. But since the cyborg was taking his time with his decision, Leia felt no obligation to heed his tacit wishes.

"Charming to the last," drawled Tarkin, reaching out to grasp her chin in a mockery of avuncular tenderness. "I shall find it ever so difficult to sign the order for your execution."

That he hadn't signed it yet came as quite a surprise. Vader's intervention, perhaps. More likely, Tarkin was trying to find someone else to take the fall, lest the political ramifications proved troublesome. Jerking her head away from his grip, she said, "We both know that you lack the courage to take responsibility yourself."

Tarkin remained unfazed, turning on his heel to walk toward the transparisteel window of the chamber. "Before your fate is decided, Princess Leia, I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational." He whirled back around, blue eyes like ice. "No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."

A small smirk twisted the corners of her lips, despite her mounting trepidation. "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers."

"Not after we demonstrate the power of this station," he said. Though he didn't raise his voice, the harshness of his tone made it clear that she was aggravating him.

A small victory, but one that she'd treasure for as long as she remained alive.

"In a way," he continued, turning back to the windows, "you have determined the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first." She followed his gaze to see an achingly familiar planet, and her stomach dropped into her feet. "Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."

She felt Vader's hand tighten on her shoulder. A warning, or perhaps some pathetic attempt at comfort. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Alderaan – and all its billions of inhabitants – was in danger of obliteration. Her first instinct was to plead, appealing to whatever scrap of humanity was still buried in Tarkin's noxious soul. But Vader's iron grip on her shoulder was like an anchor, reminding her that it was pointless. Tarkin was a born sociopath, callous and utterly without compunction. Nobody with an ounce of compassion could rise so high through the Imperial ranks.

"This is madness!" she yelled instead, and perhaps the hand on her shoulder was indeed some measure of reassurance. If nothing else, she was certain that Vader wouldn't permit Tarkin to kill her just yet. It allowed her mind to remain clearer than it might have otherwise. For a man like Tarkin, only cold calculation mattered. "Are you Imperials really so blind? If you destroy a peaceful core world for the crimes of a few, you'll drive billions to our cause."

"Fear is powerful motivator, Your Highness. You should not underestimate its power to cow the masses." Tarkin sounded so calm. So unbearable smug.

She sneered at him. "Capricious violence makes people desperate, you fool – it will cow only those who are stupid enough to think that the Empire can be appeased." She let out a harsh laugh. "But of course, if you understood that, there would be no Alliance in the first place."

Tarkin raised a brow. "An impressive display of bravado, but I grow tired of this game. You will tell us where the Rebel base is located, or you shall watch your homeworld be destroyed."

For a moment, she considered telling him some lie to buy time, and she began to think of sparsely-populated worlds that she could afford to sacrifice. Nausea churned in her belly. Vader's hand tightened.

A flash of inspiration: Vader was here, as imposing and powerful as ever, but backed into a corner. If ever there was a time to see if she could wrest the Sith Lord's leash from Tarkin and Palpatine, it was now.

"Will you really allow him to do this, Lord Vader?" she asked softly. "To take my planet – my people – from me?" She would have appealed to his honor as warrior, if she thought he had any. But she suspected it was herself alone that concerned him. Or at least, her value to him as a tool in overthrowing the Emperor.

His breathing suddenly seemed very loud. Tarkin's eyes radiated cold amusement. "You must be desperate indeed, to plead with Lord Vader."

She ignored him. Softly, earnestly, she pleaded, "Please help me, father."

For a seemingly endless moment, Vader did nothing. But then everything was a flurry of motion. He released her and pulled the lightsaber from his belt, igniting it with a sinister hiss. She registered an expression of disbelief on the Grand Moff's face before Vader stabbed him through heart, and he did the same to Motti seconds later. Meanwhile, the soldier operating the firing mechanism was thrown across the room, hitting the back wall with a sickening crack.

The rest of the guards were well-trained enough that their own shock was brief, and they rounded on Vader with raised blasters. He deflected their shots with his lightsaber, directing them back at the soldiers with frightening precision. Both of them crumpled to the ground, dead on impact.

He turned to Leia, deactivating the lightsaber. "It is done," he said.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, relief washing over her like a narcotic. "So you've chosen," she said.

A pause. Perhaps it had been an impulse decision on Vader's part, and the implications of it were just now starting to sink in. But he was no fool. "We must go, Leia."

There he went again, using her given name – but she was too giddy from relief and adrenaline to mind. She nodded. "How much time do we have before the rest of the station discovers this?"

"l can lock this terminal at the highest security clearance," said Vader. "But Tarkin still controls this station. It will be only a matter of time before he's missed."

Leia nodded again. "Do you know of a way to disable this station's major weapons systems?"

Even through the vocoder, Vader's exasperation was clear. "We will leave now, Leia."

"No," she said, raising her chin. "If we leave now, some other psychopath will be given command, and other planets will be in danger. We must disable the station, even if only temporarily." With any luck, Obi-Wan had managed to deliver the Death Star plans to the Alliance. Any time she could give them to process the plans and prepare their assault would certainly prove invaluable.

Vader moved forward. "You are in no position to make demands," he said. "My generosity is far from infinite."

She crossed her arms. "You're a rebel now, Lord Vader. Do you really want your enemies to have this kind of firepower at their disposal?"

He seemed to mull that over for a moment, then said, "Very well. But we must be quick." With that, he swept out of the room. Leia allowed herself a brief moment of grim triumph.

Against all odds, and though it sickened her to acknowledge it, this unfortunate genetic connection was proving to be beneficial, after all.

Chapter Text

Vader led his daughter to the elevators with an outward sense of purpose he didn't actually feel, his limbs moving as if of their own volition. His mind was whirling, confusion and something akin to terror warring with hot, burning rage. He channeled that rage and fear into action.

Her words seemed to echo endlessly in his mind.

"So you've chosen."

Had he? Truthfully, he wasn't sure. He had betrayed his Master, certainly. The Empire, perhaps not. He was inclined to agree with Leia on the result of using the Death Star to destroy a core world.

But that had not been Vader's reason for killing the Grand Moff.

No, what had motivated him to stab Tarkin through the heart was a sudden flash of insight, prompted by Leia's words: Leia, lying to Tarkin; Tarkin, destroying Alderaan; Leia, handed over to the Emperor. Although Tarkin's ambitions to usurp the Emperor were plain, he still had reason to court the Emperor's favor. And revealing the existence of Vader's child would earn him much favor, indeed.

Vader's only chance to prevent this outcome was at that moment, he knew, and he hadn't thought any further than that. Tarkin's usefulness had come to an end.

Despite his initial hesitation, however, there was an undeniable satisfaction in having ended the existence of his long-time colleague. For all that he respected Tarkin's ruthless efficiency, this outcome had always been inevitable.

He stopped by an equipment depot and led Leia inside, gesturing to stormtrooper uniforms stacked on the far end. "This will deflect suspicion," he said.

"Good idea," she replied. She walked over to the uniforms and gave them a quick scan, then picked out one that looked to be her size. Vader turned so that she could change in privacy.

"Alright," came Leia's now tinny, modulated voice. The standardized armor, even at its smallest size, looked too big on her. But it would still attract less attention than that ridiculous white dress. "Let's get going."

At the very least, he knew that she could use the blaster she'd acquired more than adequately.

They carried on without saying a word, moving unencumbered through the corridors and elevators as officers and troopers alike passed them by. Soon, they were in front of the chamber that housed the components of the Death Star's main laser.

Vader keyed in his security clearance and disabled the security protocols. The blast doors slid open, and the two of them entered.

The giant kyber crystals that served to amplify the laser were suspended in a structure made of a carbon-based alloy. Even his lightsaber would have difficultly cutting through it quickly. Besides, tampering with the crystals themselves would likely trigger alarms that even his own high level of security clearance couldn't override.

Leia raised her blaster, and Vader placed a hand on the muzzle. "It is unwise to fire any energy weapons here."

She lowered it abruptly. "I take it that destroying the crystals themselves is out of the question," she said.

Always so astute, he thought, and was unable to stop a sudden burst of pride. "Correct," he confirmed. "But we are not without other options."

He moved swiftly to the consoles on the far side of the chamber. All of the weapon's main settings could only be adjusted manually from this location, in order to avoid access by low-clearance personnel. It was cut off from the station's main holonet, as well.

Which was all the better, given what Vader was about to do.

Vader's specialty had never been slicing, but – as with all things involving technology – he did have a knack for it. Having high-level clearance codes just made the endeavor that much simpler. All of his changes to various connections and circuits were subtle, spread over the entirety of the central weapons systems and main reactor. Only repairing every single tiny change would allow for the weapon to be reactivated. And after the upheaval caused by Tarkin's death, any such repairs would likely take days to be initiated. Then weeks, or even months, to be completed. He suspected that the Imperial engineers might even resort to a full-scale redesign.

He allowed himself the tiniest flicker of smug pride as he shut down the console.

Leia looked skeptical. "That's it?" she asked.

"You have no choice but to trust in my skills," he replied. His patience had officially run out. "We leave now."

Leia didn't look pleased, but she clearly sensed that arguing further was futile. "Lead the way, then."

With a flourish of his cape, Vader did.

He led them to a nearby docking bay and chose one of the generic, surplus Delta-class shuttles. His own ship, with its pre-Clone War Nubian design and notable modifications, would be far too conspicuous.

Within minutes, they had gained clearance from the tractor beam. Vader set hyperspace coordinates for an Outer Rim system that was deep in Hutt Space, and not under the direct jurisdiction of the Empire.

And then they were flying away from everything that Vader had built for the last two decades: his ship, his troops, his Empire.

It felt oddly like freedom.

"Thank you," said Leia, awkwardly, after Vader had activated the hyperdrive. She was sitting beside him in the copilot's seat, having changed into a pair of standard imperial overalls. "You saved billions of lives today."

"I didn't do it for their sake," he replied, easing his hands off the controls.

Leia tried to suppress the wave of disgust she felt at his words. She had to give him credit for his candor, at the very least. "Even so, I'm grateful."

Vader said nothing. She wondered if he found this as surreal as she did. Perhaps a change of subject was in order.

"We'll need to get you out of that suit, if you're to join me in the Alliance."

He stiffened visibly. "You plan to lie to your comrades?"

"Not at all," she said. "Getting rid of the suit will be a tangible way of showing your shift in allegiance." Convincing the Alliance leadership to accept the service of one of the Empire's most notorious war criminals would be no easy task; the suit would make the prospect nigh impossible.

"You hide it well, your highness, but you really are a politician." His tone made it clear that this wasn't a compliment.

Bristling, she retorted: "Why are you even still in that thing? Medical technology has advanced since the Clone Wars. You could've been fitted with less cumbersome prosthetics years ago."

"My reasons are my own," said Vader.

"That goes without saying," she quipped, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. "But you can't deny that it must be removed. If nothing else, it makes you a walking target." Vader wasn't exactly known for his stealth; quite the opposite. But even he had to realize that a fugitive was in a very different position than the Emperor's chief enforcer.

Regardless of her undeniable logic, the prospect appeared to unsettle him. It made sense, she supposed; it was no doubt a fundamental part of his identity.

All the more reason to get rid of it.

"Do we have time to attend to such trivialities?" he asked, after a long stretch of silence.

"All the pieces are in place," said Leia, carefully. "I've dispatched the Death Star plans and temporarily disabled its destructive capacity; I can't influence the outcome any further." The thought of it made her stomach twist. "Besides: as you are now, I can't reveal the location of our base."

She doubted that he'd ever truly be a friend to the Alliance, but she needed to make sure that his betrayal of the Empire was complete. That any intelligence he leaked would be doubted as subversion, or a clumsy attempt to become a double agent. Relinquishing the symbol of his place within the Empire, and thus starting anew, would leave no doubt in any Imperial's mind as to the sincerity of his defection.

After a long, tense pause, he said, "I shall do as you wish, Leia."

On some level, she'd known he would. He had already come too far to turn back.

"I'll go make the arrangements," she said.

So it had come to this, he thought, staring into the whorls of hyperspace. He was to give up his suit to appease a horde of traitors.

To appease his daughter.

He was surprised at his own lack of anger at the prospect. His...resignation. He had come to appreciate the suit many years ago - the way it removed him from his ties to the flesh, so that he could focus exclusively on forging closer ties to the Force. His strength and endurance were greater now than they had ever been in his fully organic body.

But he suspected that this was all the will of the Force; a test to see if he was using the suit as a crutch. It was his rage and hate that truly gave him power, after all. The suit was ultimately immaterial.

There was an opportunity here, in any case. Leia, for all her brilliance, was still naive in her own way. Overconfident. She believed that he had no option but to obey her, and the Alliance by extension.

But she was very wrong.

He would play along, for now. Infiltrate the Alliance, gain Leia's trust, and plant the seeds of the Dark Side in her spirit. Given time, he could convince her of the folly of her cause. She would come to see that ruling the Galaxy at his side was the best outcome for everyone.

His mouth twisted into a smile under the mask as he sank into the cold embrace of the Dark Side.

Leia was his daughter. Soon, she would understand her destiny.

Leia felt the beginnings of a headache as she shut down the comm. Her contact had made it clear that getting Vader out of the suit was not going to be cheap. Even calling in the favor the older woman owed her, it would clean out most of her private account. She wanted to avoid using Alliance funds if at all possible, especially on somebody like Vader. However valuable he might prove as an informant, he had simply killed too many of their members, and posed too much of a future threat, to warrant Alliance credits.

She gazed down at the now-inactive comm unit, wanting desperately to contact her father - to tell him that she was alright. But with Vader aboard, she dared not risk it. The cyborg was known for both his grudges and his explosive temper. Setting him off could derail everything.

She took a few minutes to massage her temples, to regain her composure, then stood up and walked to the cockpit. She held out a datapad to Vader. "The coordinates," she said.

He took it wordlessly, and immediately began to fiddle with the controls. He seemed almost...enthusiastic. Or whatever the Sith Lord equivalent of that was. Leia wasn't sure what to make of it.

"No second thoughts?" she asked.

"It is the will of the Force," he replied, as though it was obvious. This was apparently his way of saying "no".

She frowned slightly, her headache intensifying. "I'll take your word for it." It wasn't that she didn't believe in the Force. How could she not? As a child, she'd been saved by Force abilities, and "may the Force be with you" was a familiar and treasured prayer. Rather, she didn't much trust Vader's judgment. It was evident that he was every bit the fanatic that the rumors said he was.

But even if he was right, it didn't matter. Destiny or no, her world was forever changed. And she would have to find some way of coping with it.

There was nothing more to say, so she retreated to the cabin to get some rest.

With the computer set and no need to remain at the controls for now, Vader followed Leia into the cabin. It was a pity that he could not have taken his private ship, with its meditation chamber on board. But he supposed that it wouldn't matter soon enough, if he was truly to be freed of the suit.

He wasn't sure why he'd come here. It wasn't as though he needed to lay down in order to sleep. Frustrated at his purposeless wandering, he looked over to the sleeping Princess. There were dark circles under her eyes, but her face was slack and peaceful.

Unbidden, his mind conjured up a memory of his mother sleeping after a long day of labor. The resemblance was...strong. It took a great deal of restraint not to reach out and push away a stray lock of hair that had fallen onto her face.

Another flash, this time of Leia's face twisted in pain as she refused to beg for mercy. Had his mother shown similar fortitude over the weeks that she had been slowly tortured to death?

Leia. His grown-up daughter. Beautiful and fierce and stolen. Is this how his mother had felt, when she had seen him that very last time?

He pushed these thoughts aside, annoyed at himself. They were irrelevant questions with equally irrelevant answers. She had been stolen, yes - but he had no intention of dying just yet.

Still, he couldn't entirely shake the unease. Leia was his daughter, and yet the truth of it had eluded him entirely. Looking at her now, it should've been all too obvious. Yet even her evident Force potential hadn't been plain to him until after their interrogation. Was this too the will of the Force, or merely the trickery of a cunning traitor?

What other secrets was Organa hiding?

He'd make sure to question the Viceroy thoroughly before he killed him.

At the very least, he could be certain that he hadn't been alone in his ignorance. If Sidious had known that the child of Skywalker yet lived, she would have been procured and turned into an asset years ago. An Inquisitor, perhaps; trained just enough to be of use without posing a genuine threat to Sidious' power.

But now that Vader was aware of their connection, it was only a matter of time before his Master discovered it too. And he would not wish for Leia be a mere Inquisitor, any longer. Sidious would no doubt covet her as he had once coveted Anakin Skywalker - a prime replacement for the apprentice that had betrayed him.

Vader swore that he would never let it come to that.

He stood there for quite some time, gazing down at the sleeping young woman. But he eventually compelled himself to go to the engine room. He needed to make modifications to the ship's identification transmitter if they were to avoid detection long-term. No imperial vessel went missing for long without being noticed - even one as generic and nondescript as this.

In a way, tinkering was its own kind of meditation, and he allowed his thoughts to drift as he set about performing the familiar work. Like so much else, he hadn't indulged in daydreaming for many, many years.

But now, for the first time in his new life, the future seemed to spark with possibility.

Chapter Text

Vader was awoken from a light sleep by the sound of Leia's scream.

He was on his feet in seconds, lightsaber drawn and activated, bounding to the cabin. He could sense no presence besides the Princess', however.

She was sitting up on the couch she'd used as her cot, staring at the wall, her face white and body trembling. Terror suffused the Force around her.

"Leia..." he began, deactivating the saber and stowing it at his side. "You are in no danger."

Her head snapped around to face him, her eyes wide and feverish. In the Force, her terror spiked. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out save for the gasps caused by hyperventilation.

It occurred to him, then, what the nature of her dream must've been. He left as swiftly as he'd come.

Once he was out of her sight, he heard her scrambled desperately to the lavatory. She must not have had the time to close the door, as he could hear her retching violently into the toilet.

The retching continued for several minutes, making something twist in the pit of Vader's stomach. He considered bringing her a canteen of water, or a tube of nutrition paste. At this rate, she would become anemic and dehydrated.

He did not do so, however.

Instead, he listened carefully until he was reasonably sure that she had procured them for herself. He then reached out with the Force to make sure that the terror and panic had ebbed away into something less acute.

Even once he sensed that the Princess had fallen back to sleep, his own rest eluded him.

Suddenly, the prospect of being rid of the suit seemed ever-so-slightly more attractive.

When the shuttle exited hyperspace, it quickly became clear why the Princess had chosen this particular location. The facility was a grubby-looking space station that had been salvaged from the Clone Wars, located just outside an asteroid field.

Vader docked the shuttle and left the cockpit. Leia was waiting for him, arms crossed, and said nothing as she led him off of the ship. There was a plump, stout, pale-skinned human woman waiting for them, dressed in a white lab coat. Her grey-streaked brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun.

She looked entirely too pleased to see them. "Princess!" she said jovially, spreading her arms in welcome. Her smile widened into a grin when her gaze turned to Vader. "And my dear, dear patient! I'm so happy that you've arrived - and with nary a TIE in sight."

"You are not a member of the Alliance," stated Vader, noting the sleek, well-kept interior of the station.

"Correct, dear," the woman confirmed. Vader bristled at the lack of deference. "Never cared much about that political nonsense. I made the acquaintance of the Princess here when she saved my life from some rather nasty pirates." She suddenly looked abashed. "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Doctor Franca, and I'll be overseeing your refurbishment." Her grin returned. "I know who you are, of course."

Vader's patience was wearing thin, but Leia's had worn thinner. "I'd appreciate skipping the pleasantries, Doctor," she said, her tone sharp despite the politeness of her words. "We're on a tight schedule."

Franca was unfazed. "Of course, of course - you're a busy woman. Do follow me."

She led them into a large operating theater, chattering away excitedly all the while. Vader didn't care enough to pay attention to her babbling, knowing her type all too well: completely absorbed in their chosen field, seeing test subjects in place of patients. They could prove to be extremely competent, if one were willing to put up with their narcissism.

He doubted the Princess would entrust a comrade to Franca's care, explaining why she'd yet to call in the debt incurred by her act of misguided heroism. But Vader was no comrade.

"I'm ready to start right away, if it pleases you both," said Franca, once she'd come back from her flight of fancy.

"It does," said Leia, before Vader could reply. She turned to look at him, her mouth set and eyes full of challenge. It was, he realized, the first time she'd looked at him directly since the incident on the shuttle.

It was much too late to turn back.

A med-droid hovered over to them - a model Vader recognized from Kamino. "If you'll help us remove your exo-suit, sir, we can begin the procedure."

Vader did as he was instructed.

Vader awoke slowly, groggy from narcotic painkillers and anesthesia, and was surprised to see Leia standing in front of his bed, her lips drawn in a thin line.

"You look unhappy, your highness," he rasped. "Is this not what you wanted?"

Franca appeared to be absent. The med-droid was at one of theater's consoles, however, and sped over to say, "It is best you not speak yet, sir. Your vocal chords are still fragile."

"Noted," he responded.

Leia's frown deepened, and she said, "You should listen to it, Lord Vader. I don't have the funds to repair any damage you inflict during recovery." She lifted the datapad she was holding. "They replaced your lungs with cybernetic implants, and repaired your vocal chords and skin with nanodroids. Your limb prosthetics have been upgraded and covered in synthskin."

If they had "repaired his skin", it meant that they had removed his scars. He would likely also regrow his hair. What an utterly superfluous vanity. But then, the Princess was a politician. She put far too much stock in appearances.

It was mildly interesting that nanodroids had applications outside of terrorism and organized crime, he supposed. Groggily, he recalled how the Droid Gotra had taken to using them to turn unwitting organics into walking explosives.

The med-droid continued: "You are to have bedrest for a full standard week, with moderate exercise once a day to walk to and from the bacta chamber. It is advised that you refrain from speaking until two days of bacta treatment are completed."

That was it? Vader had been sure that the process would take months. Though admittedly, he'd never been curious enough to investigate the matter in any detail. He visited his private bacta tank on Mustafar fairly regularly, but usually in response to new injuries acquired during missions. Its purpose was immediate survival and optimal integration with his suit. He'd had no need for anything more ambitious.

Actually thinking about it, though, he supposed that using synthetic lungs rather than attempting to grow new ones would minimize the need for bacta treatment. Likewise with synthskin. The treatments were for repairing the damage left behind by the various surgeries he'd undergone, then, rather than attempting to repair his body to the point of no longer requiring mechanical assistance at all.

Outwardly, he would look organically human, while remaining as cyborg as ever within.

He shivered, realizing suddenly that his entire body was cold. Not just his face, but his arms and legs and chest. Leia moved closer and pulled up his covers, tucking it in so that it wouldn't slip down again. He blinked at her in mute incomprehension, but she seemed unfazed, as though tucking him in was a completely natural thing to do.

"Rest well," she said as she pulled back. "You won't have much opportunity to after this is over."

Leia wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to feel when she first saw Vader after his surgery. Apathetic, most likely. Or perhaps curious. Instead, laying eyes upon his rejuvenated face made it feel as though she'd been punched in the gut.

Despite the genetic results, Leia had been holding out some hope. Of fabrication, perhaps, or some freak miscalculation. Actually seeing his real face for the first time had left her reeling, however. Because, even pale and gaunt and entirely bald, she saw in his face the curve of her own nose, the tilt and shape of her own lips, the furrows her own brow made when she frowned. She had seen enough holofootage of herself to know how these things looked to outsiders.

She had no doubt that any human who saw them side-by-side would conclude that they shared a familial connection. Hell, even many nonhumans would be able to see it.

And now, she wanted to see her father even more desperately than before. To ask him why he'd kept it from her for all these years, and why he'd bothered to take in the child of a monster.

She sighed and sat down shakily, putting her head in her hands. Of course he wouldn't have left her to die. It was her father who had always insisted that there was something valuable in every living being, after all. He wouldn't have blamed an innocent child for the crimes of her biological father, any more than Leia herself would.

In hindsight, his awareness of her origins certainly did explain some of the arguments she'd had with him as a child. The looks he'd gotten when she'd displayed a particular talent, and zeal, for enacting violence. Was there a part of him that saw the seeds of what eventually became Darth Vader within her?

Was there a part of Bail Organa that feared what she might become?

She laid back on the shuttle's main sofa, trying to clear her mind of such useless questions. She wouldn't see her father for a while yet, and it wasn't safe to try and contact him over the holonet without encryption. It was of no help at all to torture herself like this.

Whatever the personal consequences for her own sense of identity, she had achieved a major coup for the Alliance. The Emperor's top enforcer was willing to cooperate with them, whatever ulterior motives he may have, and she had temporarily disabled the Empire's monstrous superweapon.

This was what she tried to focus on as she waited for Vader to recover.

Chapter Text

Doctor Franca came to see Vader a day after the procedure was finished, checking him over intently to make sure that everything was healing as it should.

It took quite a bit of effort not to fling her across the recovery ward when her fingers lingered entirely too long at the top of his thigh. She noticed his tension, however.

"I should probably tell you that killing me would be an exceedingly terrible idea," she said, smiling sweetly. "This station is set to self-destruct within five seconds of my untimely demise, in addition to some other lovely surprises." She waggled her bushy eyebrows. "It's a necessary precaution, when you specialize in a certain kind of clientele."

Not Alliance, and not Imperial. Likely, she worked freelance for various criminal organizations.

"Oh, don't give me that look, dear," she mock-scolded. "All I do is fix people. From what I've heard, you're hardly in a position to judge."

Vader rolled his eyes, but maintained his prescribed silence.

She continued her examination for a few moments, then said, "You know, it's quite astounding that a man of your means and position didn't do something like this sooner. But then again, your suit was Cylo's work, no? That man always did have a taste for the macabre." Her hands roamed over the place where his right prosthetic leg met his flesh one. "Though he's probably not strictly a 'man' anymore." A snort. "And people call me a fanatic."

Of course she loved to hear herself speak, especially with a captive audience.

"There's something else you should know," she said, moving to his left leg. "Cylo implanted a remote control mechanism into your suit, but it was also integrated directly into your nervous system. I asked the Princess if she wanted me to keep its functionality with your upgrades."

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, and yet it did. He mentally added Cylo to his list of people that required immediate termination.

She paused, catching his gaze for a few moments, then said, "She told me to remove it."

"Foolish," Vader noted, his voice a croak.

"Quite," she agreed, her hands falling away from his body. "These Alliance types are all so stupidly noble, it's a wonder they aren't all dead already." At least she didn't insult his intelligence by reminding him that he needed to rest his voice.

Once Franca had left, he allowed himself to dwell upon what she had revealed. It was something of note that the Princess had chosen to free him of such a weakness. He had long understood why so many Imperial personnel were seduced over to the Alliance, perceiving its naive 'nobility' as a chance for belonging and freedom. The incompetence and entitlement displayed by many Imperial officers was a problem that Vader himself could easily acknowledge, having dispatched of many personally. It was clear why the likes of Leia would appeal when compared to such sub-par leadership.

It was clear that even he himself wasn't immune to such gestures, as warmth spread through him at the thought of Leia's foolish compassion. He couldn't even dismiss it as a hollow manipulation, since she'd likely had no intention of ever telling him of it.

It was self-indulgent, he knew, to attribute the decision to her finally coming to understand the depth of their connection. But he entertained the thought anyway.

They need not simply be of utility to each other, after all. The potential for something more meaningful was...tempting.

Perhaps too tempting. Skywalker's downfall had always been his desperate need to find trust and affection from others. It had, in the end, led to his demise.

The solution had come in the form of the suit; the best way to cure an addiction was to cut off access to the drug. Yet here he was, exposed once more, and already craving a fix. A test, indeed.

He would have to be cautious.

Leia waited until two days were over before checking on Vader's recovery progress, not wanting to accidentally goad him into speaking. His eyes were closed when she entered the recovery ward, but she had a feeling that he wasn't asleep.

Indeed, his eyes snapped open when she approached his cot. His irises were an unnerving shade of yellow-orange, ringed in red.

They'd been blue when he'd awoken from the surgery.

"Your Highness," he said, his voice a pleasant, surprisingly youthful baritone. It stirred a sense of recognition within her, though she couldn't figure out why.

"Lord Vader," she replied, giving him a nod. "You're looking well."

It was, if anything, an understatement. Two days of extensive bacta treatment had accelerated his hair growth and restored some color to his cheeks. It was already clear that Vader was a handsome man, with a deceptively youthful face to match his voice. In fact, the only indication that he was middle-aged was the hint of grey in the otherwise sandy stubble growing on his head.

In the context of the Empire, he would've needed to wear a mask just to get anybody to take him seriously. The thought almost made her smirk.

"Leia?" he pressed, and she realized that she'd gotten distracted.

There was no point in hiding why. "It's just strange, seeing you like this."

"I can imagine," he conceded, with a small upward quirk of his lips. She wouldn't go so far as to call it a smile.

She crossed her arms over her chest, deciding that it was probably safe to assuage her curiosity. "Why are your eyes a different color than before?"

He gazed at her for a few long moments, perhaps considering if he was going to answer at all. Finally, he said, "It is the mark of the Dark Side."

Leia suddenly felt very cold, and suppressed a shiver. "I see," she said, hoping that he couldn't tell just how much he'd unnerved her.

But one of his powers was rumored to be preternatural empathy. Indeed, the darker rumors claimed he actively fed on the terror of his victims - like some nightmarish creature from folklore. Could he sense her fear, the way a predator smelled it?

"It upsets you," he noted, frowning slightly. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long, measured breath.

His eyes were blue when he opened them again.

It really was much more pleasant. "Thank you," she said sincerely, her arms falling to her sides.

His frown remained. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Curiosity," she admitted.

That brought a smirk to his lips. "Is my 'refurbishment' to your liking, then?"

Darth Vader. With facial expressions.

It was so strange.

"It'll serve its purpose," she said. When he didn't reply, she added: "Is there anything I can get you while you're here? Something to read, maybe?"

It turned out that blue eyes didn't entirely stop his gaze from being unsettling. "The Force is all I require."

Leia couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Overblown piety was the same everywhere, apparently - whether from Sith Lords or clergy. "Well, if you change your mind, feel free to comm me."

It had been a long time since Vader had experienced awkwardness.

It was something that arose only when there was a lack of clarity about intentions. And it had been a very long time indeed since he'd had any cause to leave his intentions ambiguous.

Even longer since he'd been averse to the idea of somebody fearing him.

But he now saw Leia's fear for the obstacle that it was. After all, he knew from his own Master that one needed to foster trust when turning another to the Dark Side. Yet he also knew himself incapable of manipulating Leia as Sidious had manipulated Skywalker.

Nobody had ever accused Vader of being a subtle man.

Moreover, he now also knew that she couldn't be threatened into joining him. If she got the barest inkling that he was coercing her in any way, he had no doubt that she'd resist him out of spite alone. Even if joining him was unquestionably in her interests.

In other words, if Leia was to join him, it would only be on her own terms. That he'd ever thought otherwise had been desperate folly.

It was therefore incumbent upon him to try and undo some of the damage he'd unwittingly done to his prospects. The true reason, he now saw, why he'd needed to free himself of the suit. It was not his human face that haunted her dreams.

Perhaps Leia would never come to care for him as a daughter cared for a father. But, failing that, he could certainly make himself trustworthy. Reliable. A bulwark in the face of adversity.

He would have to make his intentions plain, however. Make Leia see that he was, if nothing else, an honest man.

When the time was right.

Chapter Text

In the end, Vader never did comm her, and she only saw him again when his week of recovery was over. It was the first time that she'd seen him standing up without the suit.

He made an impressive figure, she could admit: tall, handsome, clean-shaven, and with a full head of hair. He wore a black shirt with brown pants, his black boots practical. The clothes of a laborer, rather than an Imperial enforcer. Outwardly, there was nothing to tie him to the Vader of old.

But his gait - sure-footed, purposeful, commanding - was exactly the same.

Franca trailed behind him, her much shorter legs and bulky frame failing to match his pace.

"Leia," he said, with a nod of his head.

She nodded back, then turned to Doctor Franca, who had finally caught up to them. "Thank you for your help, Doctor."

"Oh, it was my pleasure," said the doctor, beaming at them both. "Do be careful, dears. I'd be dreadfully put out if I heard that all of my hard work had gone to waste."

Leia's gaze flickered to Vader, who was giving Franca the stink eye. Thinking of ways to kill the doctor without setting off any of her various booby traps, most likely. For the likes of him, those like Franca were to be dispatched once they'd outlived their usefulness - loose ends in need of tying.

Leia would be damned if she'd allow it to happen on her watch.

"Shall we leave, Lord Vader?" said Leia, her tone sharp.

After another beat of glaring at Franca, he replied, "Very well," and made his way onto their shuttle.

Once he was out of sight, she turned back to Franca. "I'll make sure he doesn't blow up the station before we enter hyperspace."

"That's very thoughtful of you, dear," said the doctor sweetly. "But I think he understands that it would be against his interests to murder me."

Leia gave the other woman she small smile. "I guess this makes us even," she said.

"Indeed," Franca confirmed. "But do feel free to come visit sometime, dear. We'll have tea."

As it happened, Vader did not attempt to blow up Franca's station, which left the two of them in silence for several minutes.

Once they were in hyperspace, however, Vader turned to her and said, "I wish to discuss something with you."

She swiveled the copilot's chair in order to face him. He looked grimly determined, and she felt her anxiety spike. "It's not like I have anything else to do."

Vader looked vaguely...nervous? Yes, that was definitely it. "I want to make my intentions plain," he said. "So that there are no misunderstandings between us."

He was clearly waiting for a response, so she nodded for him to continue.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his shoulders tense. "Before I begin, I want to make this clear: I needn't have gone to these lengths in order to find the location of your base, or gain intelligence about the inner workings of the Alliance. The former could've been achieved just as readily by allowing you to escape and placing a tracking device on your getaway ship. The latter, by having a far less conspicuous ISB agent act as an informant."

It made sense, but Leia still frowned. "Alright," she said, carefully. "Then why are you here?"

"Because," he began, tensing even further, "I wish to convince you to join me."

It was then that Leia understood. As she'd predicted, Vader had taken her words to heart. And he had chosen the only path that had even the remotest possibility of success.

But playing his hand so openly seemed to serve no purpose. "And you're telling me this...why?"

The tension was finally leaving his body, which in turn eased some of Leia's anxieties. Vader was far less dangerous when he was calm. "Because I know that you won't even consider my offer unless I prove myself to be trustworthy first."

"Trustworthy..." It was not a word that she'd ever thought to associate with Vader, of all people. "I've heard rumors that you use your own men as shields in battle."

"I do," he said, not batting an eye. "Rarely. If it proves strategically necessary,"

Outrage caused her voice to rise in volume. "Because their lives are worth less than yours?"

"Yes, from a strategic point of view. Which is the only one that matters in battle."

He said it as though it was perfectly reasonable; a given, like taking stock of the weather. "They're human beings, not holochess pieces," she said, voice thick with disgust.

"That doesn't stop you and your comrades from killing them," he noted.

She shook her head. "It's not the same."

"Is it not?" he asked. "The bulk of the Imperial military is made up of enlistees, not conscripts. And even conscripts are quickly filtered out if they lack the will to fight. So every one of the soldiers who served with me ultimately made the conscious decision to join us, knowing that their lives would be on the line. Knowing the price of victory." His expression hardened, "Your precious Republic, I'll remind you, was not so considerate, employing hundreds of millions of clones who never had a choice in the matter."

"Under the auspices of Chancellor Palpatine," she snapped.

"With nigh-unanimous support from the Senate," he said, coldly. "And the Jedi."

Leia felt disgust and frustration churning in her gut. "You just have a rationalization for everything, don't you?"

The hardness left his face, replaced with a sardonic half-smile. "I apologize if my lack of tongue-tied deference to your supreme moral wisdom is a disappointment, Your Highness."

He was outright goading her now, she knew, and she'd be damned if she allowed her temper to get the better of her. But it wasn't easy to keep it under control when he was so relentlessly insufferable. "How can you be so callous? These people have friends and families who love them!"

The smile fell away. "And nothing is stopping them from choosing to become freighter pilots or clerks."

"Being a civilian has never protected anybody from you," Leia said.

"Those who stand in my way," Vader said, "are not civilians."

Leia bit her tongue, knowing that challenging him any further about this would just yield more rationalizations. What was she expecting? Vader being a war criminal wasn't news. He would face justice for everything he'd done, one day. Leia would make sure of it. 

His gaze caught her own in that way that always unnerved her. "Think of me as a monster if you wish - I won't dispute it. However," his eyes were very blue, and very clear, and altogether too human, "I will never lie to you, Leia. Nor will I manipulate you, mislead you, or tell you half-truths. Ever."

For some reason she couldn't quite name, she believed him. Obi-Wan had once said that her birth father was forthright, hadn't he? She found herself reminded once more of some creature from folklore, who fed on sentients but would always tell the truth if you managed to ensnare it.

The question was: could she stop Vader from feeding on sentients?

Swallowing hard, she said, "If you really want my trust, then you'd better not pull any of that other crap while you're by my side. No choking people, no human shields, no torture."

"I'd deduced as much myself," he said, with another crooked smile. "Unless you instruct me otherwise, of course. You're now the one who's 'holding my leash', as it were."

Let it never be said that Vader lacked self-awareness.

She let out a shaky sigh. It seemed very daunting, all of a sudden, to have that kind of responsibility. Like she had personal control of some horrific weapon of mass destruction.

But she'd chosen this of her own volition, and would therefore have to live with the burden. "We understand each other, then."

She stood and left the cockpit.

Silence was something that Vader usually appreciated. It gave him time to meditate, and had been a fairly rare occurrence during his years of relentless service to the Empire.

Alas, it appeared he had become used to a certain pace of activity in his daily life, and several days of silence had left him...restless. He'd hoped to get something of a respite by talking with Leia. However, the silence had returned the moment that their brief exchange was over.

As had the restlessness.

He lingered by the door of the cabin for an absurdly long time before finally stepping through. Once he saw Leia absorbed in a datapad on the sofa, however, he found himself at a total loss for what to say.

He must've lost track of time, because eventually the Princess said, "Is there something else you'd like to discuss?"

Vader felt heat rush to his face. "...No," he admitted, trying to keep his embarrassment from coloring his voice. It wasn't something he'd had to worry about for years; the vocoder had modulated his tone without any conscious effort on his part.

"Then...could you please stop staring at me?"

He exited swiftly to the engine room. One could always find something to do in an engine room.

There were no droids on board, so he turned his attention to the ship itself. He'd already modified the ship's transmitter, of course, but any standardized model could do with a suite of improvements.

He decided to start with the sub-light engines, which were currently dormant, and quickly found a number of ways to increase their efficiency. It took him about five hours.

They had another three hours to go.

He returned to the cabin to find Leia lying back on the sofa, awake but clearly lost in thought. It didn't take her long to notice him, though.

Sitting up, she said, "Are you sure there isn't something you want to talk about?"

He walked up to the sofa to sit beside her, and leaned back against the wall. A deep fatigue settled over his body. "Would you tell me of Alderaan?"

He could sense her discomfort, her confusion, but still she said, "Sure. Why not."

She told him then of snow-capped mountain peaks, with lush valleys filled to bursting with wildflowers. How she'd love to pick them as a child, fashioning them into garlands and bracelets, pressing them between the pages of the old paper books she'd brought with her from the royal library. She told him of spring thunderstorms, where she'd gone out into the pouring rain to catch the raindrops on her tongue. How her aunts would scold her for getting her nice clean dresses completely drenched and covered in mud.

He listened silently, letting her smooth contralto voice wash over him.

Soon enough, he was asleep.

Chapter Text

"Give me your lightsaber," Leia said, holding out her hand expectantly.

Vader glared, but didn't protest, unclipping the weapon from his belt and handing it over to her. She had no doubt that he'd be able to retrieve it with ease so long as it wasn't properly secured, but it was a necessary gesture all the same.

She was at once relieved and anxious now that they were finally arriving at the base on Yavin 4. Relieved, because she would no longer have to deal with the near-painful awkwardness of being alone with Vader. Anxious, because she was taking a huge risk by bringing Vader here.

Vader had been silent since she'd transmitted the security codes that would give her safe passage to land, his mouth a tight line. She hoped desperately that this wouldn't prove to be a mistake.

Still, her gut told her it was the right decision. Or perhaps it was the Force.

She wasn't sure she cared which.

The base was bustling with activity when they arrived, but Leia was still whisked away to Mon Mothma's private office with surprising speed for a debriefing, Vader in tow.

A few of the personnel they passed gave him curious looks, yet none seemed to recognize him. Which she supposed was a good thing, although she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was leading a nexu straight into a herd of nerfs.

Mon embraced her once they entered her office, easing Leia's nerves just a fraction. "Leia," she said, once she'd pulled pack. "I'm so very glad that you've returned to us."

"No more glad than I am to have returned," Leia said, smiling a little stiffly. There was a growing pit of dread in her stomach. "My father isn't here?" she asked. Surely, he would've come to greet her if he was.

Mon's face was always carefully controlled, but Leia could see the edges of sorrow around her mouth and eyes. "You should have a seat, I think."

Both of them did so, with Mothma taking her customary place behind her desk. Leia already knew what she was preparing herself to say, though a part of her refused to believe it.

At length, Mothma finally said, "I'm so sorry, Leia, but...both of your parents were executed a week ago."

She allowed the shock and sadness to wash over her, before quashing it mercilessly behind a wall in her mind. On some level, she was sure that she'd already known. Back on their way to Franca, when she'd dreamed of Vader's torture and spent hours retching. The nightmare hadn't been enough to illicit such a reaction on its own.

She must've sensed them both die, and simply been too much of a coward to admit it.

Still, there was no time to be spared for sorrow. "Then we shall make sure to honor their memories by finishing what they started," she said firmly.

"Yes," said Mon, gravely. Belatedly, her gaze shifted to Vader, who had sat down without Leia noticing, and her face registered a moment of genuine shock.

"Mothma," said Vader, by way of greeting, eschewing any kind of honorific.

"...Master Skywalker," said Mon, at length. "I'm glad to see that you're alive."

Vader smirked mirthlessly. "Your gladness will be brief, I assure you."

Skywalker. The name stirred something in the back of her mind. "Chancellor Mothma," said Leia, using her contempt for Vader to quash the grief attempting to claw its way up her throat. "This is Darth Vader. After discovering that he is my biological father, he has decided to defect. He agreed to receive medical treatment before accompanying me here." The words came surprisingly easily.

"...I see," said Mon, after a very long pause. To Vader, she said: "That certainly explains how you survived the Jedi Purge." The expression on her face was the closest thing to hatred Leia had ever seen on the older woman, and it was subsumed mere moments later behind a mask of calm. Her focus returned to Leia. "Since you brought him here, I assume you have reason to believe his betrayal of the Empire is sincere. Even so, you have put me in an exceedingly difficult position."

"I know," said Leia. "But he's the only reason that Alderaan wasn't obliterated. And why the Death Star is currently out of commission."

"So our intelligence was accurate," said Mon. "That does alter circumstances considerably. Still, I will need some time to consider what to do next."

Leia picked up her carrier bag and pulled out Vader's lightsaber, holding it out to Mon. "Vader gave this to me willingly."

She took the weapon gingerly. "Given your extraordinary abilities, Lord Vader, I hope you won't oppose any measures I take to keep this weapon secure."

"I am at your mercy, Chancellor." There was a mocking air to the words, but Leia still knew them to be sincere. Leia didn't doubt his ability to do considerable damage without the laser sword, but it certainly enhanced his destructive capabilities. Without it, they'd be able to subdue him much more quickly, should he go on a rampage.

Mon let out a sigh. "I must ask you to keep Vader's true identity classified for now. There are many here who hate him too much to care for any utility he may provide - no matter how great."

"And they would act against your orders, since you have such shoddy discipline," Vader noted dryly.

Mothma didn't take the bait. "The desire for justice can drive even the most disciplined soldier to act rashly, Lord Vader. As I recall, there were several incidents in the Clone War when even the clones took matters into their own hands. And one could never accuse them of lacking discipline." She quirked a brow. "The campaign on Umbara comes to mind."

The tension in the room, already high to begin with, ramped up considerably. Vader's glare was icy. "I am no Pong Krell," he said.

"No," Mon agreed, airily. "After all, he didn't hide his betrayal behind a mask for twenty years."

Leia stood abruptly. "Vader and I will take our leave for now. Feel free to summon us whenever you wish." She glared down at Vader.

He rolled his eyes, but still stood up to follow her.

Leia's distress was heavy in the Force as she led the two of them out of Mothma's office. Vader wasn't entirely pleased at the news of the Viceroy's execution himself, as it deprived him of the opportunity to interrogate the traitor personally. But he could tell that Leia was devastated.

He felt as though he should say something comforting to her, but nothing came to mind. She was certainly aware that he had planned to kill the man himself, after all. She would find his sentiments laughable at best.

"Anakin Skywalker," she said, cutting through his thoughts. "I've heard the pilots talking about you. You're something of a legend for the ones who lived through the Clone Wars."

"That name no longer holds any meaning for me," he said, hoping that she wouldn't linger on the matter.

"I couldn't care less about what meaning it has to you," Leia said, voice flat. "I just want to know if there's a risk of any of them recognizing you, like Mon did."

"It's unlikely," he said. Any footage they might have seen of him would've been purged from the Holonet years ago. Mothma, in contrast, had known him personally. Not well, admittedly - but politicians were generally good at recalling faces.

"Good."

She led them the rest of the way in silence, giving Vader a chance to take in some of the base's layout. Back in Mothma's office, it had been ever-so-tempting to retrieve his lightsaber with the Force and lop the traitor's head clean from her shoulders.

But it would've ruined his plans for Leia. Perhaps, once he'd convinced her to join him, they would do it together.

"Stay here for now," Leia finally said, upon leading him to an empty set of quarters. "I'll come get you when we're called."

"I'm surprised you think I can be left alone without supervision, Your Highness."

"You're not a child, and I need some time to myself. I trust that you'll behave yourself."

And so there he was, alone, sensing her anguish but helpless to do anything about it.

If she embraced the Dark Side, she could channel such feeling into power - and use that power to take her revenge - rather than languishing in her pain. But she was nowhere near ready to hear him out on the matter just yet.

But one day, she would be. He just needed to be patient.

And Vader could be patient, when it was necessary.

After a shower and a brief bout of meditation, he and Leia were back in Mothma's office. The red-haired former Senator had fully regained her composure.

"Your father informed us that the Death Star plans were on their way, not long before he was arrested. They've yet to arrive, however." She turned impassive eyes to Vader. "Did you hear anything about this matter before you defected?"

"No," Vader said.

"I'm fairly sure we left the Death Star before my father sent that transmission," Leia said.

Mothma sighed. "I see."

From behind them, Vader heard the sound of the door sliding open, and then: "Pardon the lateness, ma'am. I was on patrol."

Vader stiffened at the sound of that all-too-familiar voice, and, when he looked back, was greeted by the equally familiar visage of an aging clone. It was not just any clone, however; Vader would've recognized this particular clone even if he were blind. "Rex," he said, with an air of condemnation.

"It's good to see you too, General." said Rex, smiling wryly. He inclined his head to Mon Mothma and Leia in turn as he took a seat beside Vader. "Chancellor, Your Highness."

"Thank you for joining us, Captain Rex," said Mothma. She turned her impassive gaze to Vader. "Given your past collaboration, Lord Vader, I felt his input would be valuable."

He glared at her, wanting nothing more than to crush her windpipe. She had intended this to be an ambush from the very beginning!

"For the sake of transparency," Leia began, cutting through Vader's mounting rage and replacing it with cold dread, "you should know that Lord Vader is my biological father." Though her face was as blank as Mothma's, Vader could sense Leia's discomfort spike upon sharing that information for a second time.

Rex blinked. "Well then," he said. "Looks like Wolffe owes me a thousand credits."

Vader turned his glare on the clone. "You had a betting pool?"

"Of course we did," said Rex, unapologetic. He sighed wistfully. "It's a pity Fives isn't here. He would'a cleaned out a lot of pockets."

Vader tried to quash the answering twinge of sadness at the thought of his fallen comrade. There was no use for sentimentality in this den of traitors.

Mon Mothma cleared her throat gently. "If I may ask, Captain: do you think Lord Vader can be trusted, provisionally or otherwise?"

Rex looked from Vader to Leia, frowning slightly. "Well, I never would'a guessed he'd go all Dooku on us."

Vader bristled at the comparison, but held his tongue.

"That said - I don't see him betraying the Princess, if she really is his child." His frown deepened. "Though how confident I am of that comes down to what he did to Commander Tano."

Vader made an involuntary choking sound.

Mothma nodded thoughtfully. "Four years ago, Ahsoka Tano went missing in action after an encounter with you on the planet Malachor." She looked Vader straight in the eye. "Did you kill her, Lord Vader?"

He almost lied, because of how greatly he detested the truth - detested what it revealed about his convictions. But he knew all too well that both Leia and Rex would see through any obfuscations.

In any case, he couldn't afford to undermine what little trust he'd managed to build with his daughter, and so he ground out, "Ahsoka Tano is neutralized, but alive."

A long pause, and then: "...Carbonite, sir?"

Damn him. "Yes," Vader growled.

The room's other occupants radiated varying degrees of relief and joy at the revelation. Including Leia.

Leia knew Ahsoka and Rex. It was like the Force was laughing at him.

Mothma cut through his increasingly hysterical train of thought. "In that case, I propose you return her to us as a sign of good faith."

No. No, he wasn't ready for that. This was too much to ask. He didn't owe these traitors anything.

"Very well," he said, when he caught sight of Leia's hopeful eyes.

Mothma nodded. "Leia and Captain Rex will accompany you. We shall keep this mission on a need-to-know basis only, and leave as soon as possible."

"But what if the Death Star plans arrive while we're away?" Leia asked.

"You know I value your leadership, Leia," Mothma replied. "But you can do more for our cause by retrieving Ahsoka. We were dealt a heavy blow the day we lost her."

Leia looked as though she was going to argue more, but apparently thought better of it. "In that case, we'll go make preparations."

She stood to leave, and Vader followed suit.

"Off to rescue Commander Tano," said Rex, falling in beside him as they walked. "It's just like old times."

Vader refused to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Chapter Text

"I need to organize a ship," Rex had said, a few minutes after their meeting was over. "You two'll have a few hours to get ready." His gaze had then lingered on Vader meaningfully, which Vader had met with a glare.

Leia wasn't used to seeing Vader so obviously out of his depth. She'd deduced that Rex must've been one of the clones under his command during the Clone Wars, but couldn't imagine more than that. The casual ease that Rex displayed around the Sith Lord was oddly unsettling. That he seemed genuinely glad to see his former ally was utterly beyond her comprehension.

Vader, at least, didn't share his sentiments, as was evidenced by the way Vader trailed sullenly behind her.

In truth, she was glad for the silence, though a tumult of fresh questions were starting to nag at her insistently. And all the while, there was the little voice in her head reminding her that her parents were dead. In light of that, the intrusive doubts were almost welcome.

More insistent still was the hunger nagging at her belly; she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten.

As she and Vader parted ways, silence unbroken, she vowed to get herself under control before they departed.

Vader was pulled from his meditation by a chime at the entrance to his quarters. It was Leia, he knew; he'd sensed her approaching.

"Enter," he called, unfolding his legs and getting to his feet. There was a crick in his lower back, and he winced slightly in pain - glad that Leia's evident hesitation had meant she wasn't present to see it.

After so many years, he'd become used to a very specific kind of pain. But his suit had never allowed for him to develop aches in his back. It was the first time Vader could recall actually feeling his age.

The door slid open to reveal the Princess, face schooled into impassivity. "I came here to ask you a question," she said, without preamble.

"It must be pressing indeed, for you to willingly subject yourself to my presence," he noted dryly.

She didn't take the bait he'd thrown her, choosing instead to cross her arms and walk past him. Her body radiated tension. It was clear that he had perhaps been a little too accurate in his needling.

"Did you agree with the decision to destroy Alderaan?" Leia asked, her tone clipped. She was still facing away from him.

Of course, it had been only a matter of time before she brought that up again. "I didn't agree with the construction of the Death Star to begin with," Vader said. And it was true: the Death Star was nothing short of an abomination.

He couldn't see her face, but her frown emanated through the Force. "Then why didn't you do something about it earlier?" She huffed out a breath. "About Tarkin earlier?"

It took a moment for him to collect his thoughts. "It was a matter that required patience. Tarkin had always held particular influence with the Emperor, and that influence had only grown with time. Though he and I worked well together, I perceived in him a certain...deficit."

"You mean that he was a sociopath?" said Leia, dryly.

"I wouldn't go that far," Vader replied. "His downfall was more due to a narrowness of mind than a shallowness of affect. I knew that he would outlive his usefulness in time." A small smile tugged at his lips; this was an opportunity for instruction. "You see, Tarkin fundamentally misunderstood the nature of fear. It's an emotion that can indeed induce weakness and docility, but - if properly managed - it can also be an immense source of strength. You already do this instinctively, Leia, when you channel your fear into anger." Vader's smile faded. "And, as you yourself pointed out: destroying Alderaan would have galvanized the Rebellion. Indeed, it would have likely led to mass defections from within the Empire. Tarkin thought his success in fighting pirates gave him insight into the nature of all beings. That farmers and laborers would respond to fear in the same manner as the criminals he vanquished." Vader paused to let the words sink in. "He was mistaken."

"And yet the Emperor seemed to agree with him," Leia pointed out. "Since he gave the order to destroy Alderaan."

Vader snorted. "Tarkin was acting entirely of his own volition. While my Master would have no qualms destroying a heavily populated world, he would not have done so just yet. And likely would've avoided the Core. It is his greatest source of genuine support, after all."

"Which means..." There was a sharp intake of breath. "Tarkin was planning to leverage his control of the Death Star to usurp the Emperor!" Of course Leia had managed to piece it all together. Pride welled in his chest.

"Yes," Vader said.

"And you would've let him destroy Alderaan, because it would reveal his treason. You were waiting for him to implicate himself before you killed him!"

"Yes," said Vader, once more.

"You would have sacrificed billions of innocent lives for a petty power play," she spat, a sneer in her voice.

"All such maneuvers seem petty from the outside." Vader took no offense at her judgment. Her single-minded lack of perspective was something he was getting used to. "But you do not yet understand the power of the Force, or the foresight that it can provide to those who master it. Those billions would have been a necessary sacrifice to save trillions."

"That sounds like the rationalization of a coward to me."

"I am many things, Leia." He quirked a brow that she couldn't see. "But a coward has never been one of them."

There was a very long pause, tension stretching out between them. At length, Leia turned around and looked up at him. Her mouth was pressed in a tight, thin line. Finally, she said, "If you truly believe what you say - that saving Alderaan has led to trillions of deaths in the future - then why did you listen when I asked for your help?"

He considered his answer carefully. There was the pretty-sounding rationalization, which would conveniently divert attention away from his own weakness. And then there was the truth.

He had sworn to only tell her the truth. "The potential for future calamity was not a factor in that decision," he admitted, a little stiffly.

"Just like the billions of lives on Alderaan weren't," she said, eyeing him coldly.

He held her gaze. "If I had allowed Tarkin to go through with his plans, I would have lost you forever. One way or another."

"That was a foolish gamble," she said. "It's unlikely that I'll ever join you."

"I was aware of that, as well."

Leia snorted incredulously. "You can't mean to imply that you care for me, Lord Vader."

He didn't answer that. Couldn't. It was only with great effort that he managed to say: "I owed it to your mother."

At last, Leia paused. "You mean my biological mother," she said, voice soft.

"Truthfully, I'm surprised you've never asked about her." It had been at once a frustration and a relief, to be spared from speaking of Padmé. He had no desire to divulge the details of Padmé's fate, yet Leia's lack of curiosity both baffled and galled him.

Leia's pause was longer this time. "I have some memories of her, I think. Of her being...sad." She shook her head lightly, as if to clear it. "No, more than that - I remember despair, and wanting so badly to make her stop hurting. And I guess there's a part of me that's afraid to find out why somebody so kind and beautiful was so...broken."

The words hit Vader like a physical blow, knocking the wind from him. No doubt, she'd already surmised some measure of the truth on her own. Such an acute sensitivity to the Force, that she'd sensed her mother's emotions from the womb, would allow for nothing less.

Perhaps Leia was right; perhaps he was a coward. Because confessing the truth of how thoroughly he'd failed Padmé was not something he could bear. Not yet. "I will tell you of it in the future, if you wish," he said. "But...I am not yet ready."

Leia sighed, hugging herself. It was a purely unconscious gesture - so unlike her practiced political persona. Under other circumstances, Vader would've counted it a victory. "You loved her," she said. It wasn't a question, but the surprise in her voice still stung.

"I suppose you thought me incapable of such an emotion," he said, unable to keep the words from sounding bitter.

Leia's hands fell to her sides, clenched into fists, and the Force spoke of too many emotions for him to parse them all.

"I got what I came for," she said tightly, before the silence stretching between them could become too unbearably awkward. "I'm sure you have hyperspace coordinates to prepare."

It occurred to him as she left that he still hadn't told her Padmé's name.

Later, they met Rex together in the docking bay, both of them visibly tense. Leia didn't regret confronting Vader over his complicity in the Death Star, though. She'd needed to know that he at least had moral qualms on the matter before she could move forward.

And he had, in his own twisted way. Which she supposed was better than nothing.

Vader scowled darkly when he caught sight of the ship that Rex had procured for their use. "This is the best the Rebellion has to offer?"

Rex shrugged, remorseless. "I was thinking of asking General Syndulla if she'd lend us the Ghost, but she'd recognize you for sure. Ahsoka carried around one of the holocrons you made back in the day. Showed it to the whole crew. So, this is the next best thing available."

Pain flashed briefly over Vader's face, reminding Leia of how he'd looked when she'd revealed the memories she had of her mother. But he mastered himself far more quickly this time. "I will pilot, in any case."

"Obviously," said Rex. "I picked one that could take a lot of punishment, knowing how your landings usually go."

"My landings are fine," Vader snapped. It was almost petulant in tone, and Leia got the distinct impression that this had been a longstanding point of contention between them. It was surreal.

Leia sighed, a headache starting to pound behind her eyes. "Can we please just get a move-on? Save the bickering for hyperspace."

Vader huffed, but ascended the ramp without further comment.

"Being with the Imperial Navy's gotten him spoiled," Rex noted, melancholy and fond.

The headache spread upward, threatening to turn into a migraine. "If only that were the worst of it, Captain."

With that, she made her way up the ramp, and Rex followed closely behind.

Chapter Text

Leia was sitting with Rex in the cabin. Vader meanwhile was in cockpit, dealing with getting them into hyperspace. Truthfully, she was more than happy to have a reprieve from the Sith Lord. Though Rex was providing her with a different sort of vexation.

"He says he's gotten better with his landings," Rex said, "but I'm not convinced. He's a hell of a pilot, mind, but mark my words - this ship'll need a full detail once he's through with it."

Leia let out a harsh breath. Rex had been doing this for several minutes, now: throwing out little anecdotes about his exploits with Vader during the Clone Wars. Making light chit-chat about the war-criminal monster who she had the misfortune to call her biological father.

She didn't know why it bothered her so much, if she was being honest. But it did.

"I don't get it," she said, once she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Pardon, Your Highness?"

"Didn't he betray you?" Leia asked, just barely keeping her voice from rising. "How can you be so- so-" She groped for the word, unaccustomed to being so inarticulate. "So nonchalant? Talking about him as though he's one of your old war buddies!"

Rex sighed, sadness passing over his eyes. "If you wanna get technical about it, the betrayal was a mutual thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can rattle off platitudes about how I fought for the Republic, but it was never really true. I fought for my brothers. My comrades. And after I saw how the Empire used and discarded us clones, I couldn't fight for it anymore. Maybe I didn't realize it at the time, but that meant that I betrayed the General."

"You thought he was dead," Leia pointed out.

"The outcome's the same," Rex said, shrugging. "Fact is, we're not enemies anymore. Getting hung up on things that can't be changed is pointless when there's a war to be fought. Bad for morale."

Leia had rarely met clones. Even so, their consummate professionalism shouldn't have surprised her. "He's still your enemy, Captain."

Rex quirked a white brow at her. "Not so long as you're still on our side, I don't think." He smiled. "And especially not once we have Commander Tano back. No way he'll leave if both of you are in the Alliance."

Leia let out a strained sound of amusement. "As opposed to freezing us both in carbonite when we refuse to see things his way."

Rex' smile turned wistful. "From what I can see, the General's still the General - just with most of the heart stripped away. War can do that to a man, whether he calls himself a Jedi or a Sith or a regular old soldier. I could already see how much the fighting had affected him, toward the end. Made him more willing than ever to get his hands dirty. Losing Senator Amidala must'a just finished what the Clone Wars started."

Leia was struck by the name that she'd heard her parents mention so fondly. Padmé Amidala: a champion of democracy and one of the founding members of the Alliance. And apparently, the woman that Darth Vader had loved.

Leia's biological mother. Beautiful and kind and so very sad.

"Soldiers get used to a certain way of living," Rex continued. "Tell themselves that it's normal. But sometimes, all it takes is a reminder of how things can be different to turn that all around. It even happened to some of us clones, during the war. And we were born to fight."

Leia actually laughed, then. "So all I need to do is give Vader a hug and he'll, what? See the error of his ways? Never betray me? I find that a little hard to believe, Captain."

Rex grinned sheepishly. "Honestly, your Highness? I don't even think you'll need to go so far as to hug him. If I know the General at all - and I think I do, even after everything - then just making sure you don't get yourself killed will keep him distracted from any other plans. Indefinitely."

"I refer you again to the carbonite," she replied, dryly. "Or maybe just a cushy prison, if he's feeling generous."

"Maybe you're right," Rex conceded. "But I think it's too late for that. He's gotten attached."

Leia bristled, trying to keep her emotions from getting the better of her. "He was apparently pretty attached to the first Fulcrum, and that didn't stop him from imprisoning her for years." She huffed. "And besides - he's only attached to the power he thinks I have, and to the idea of getting to rule the Empire after he's converted me to his miserable religion."

"Maybe you're right about that too," said Rex, just as Leia realized that she'd revealed entirely too much. "Reckon he'd want you on the throne, though, if you're anything like your mother. Politics would drive him crazy. And as for Commander Tano..." He let out a sigh. "Freezing somebody in carbonite is the only sure-fire way to hide their lifesigns from sensors without killin' 'em. It was the strategy he used when we had a mission to infiltrate the Citadel, back in the day. Figure he did it to the Commander because he wanted to make sure that the Emperor wouldn't find out she was still alive."

Leia repressed a shudder. The Citadel was infamous for being impregnable, and Vader was infamous for his single-minded tenacity. Both of these things had apparently held true during the Clone Wars. The thought of being imprisoned in a cold shell of carbonite, not quite dead, yet certainly not alive, was one of the most horrifying things she could imagine. That Vader had willingly undergone the process himself was a disturbing confirmation of the lengths he'd go to achieve his ends.

She decided to change the subject.: "...You really think that Padmé Amidala was my mother?"

Rex gave her an avuncular smile. "It's not even a question, your Highness."

Leia couldn't wrap her head around it. The senator heralded as the greatest champion of democracy, in a romantic relationship with Darth Vader? He may have gone by a different name at the time, but Leia had serious trouble imagining that a person could change so much, so quickly. There must have been the seeds of what would later become Vader in the man called Anakin Skywalker, and a person as astute as Padmé Amidala must have seen them.

"So...she and Vader were close?" she asked, not sure what she wanted the answer to be.

His smile turned into a grin. "There's a reason why we had a betting pool. Neither of them hid it all that well."

Leia nodded, mouth tightening. She supposed that was better than being born as the result of some tryst. Or something more sinister than a tryst. Yet it called into question either the judgment or the integrity of a woman who she'd admired for almost her entire life.

The woman who had given Leia her oldest memories, it turned out. Was it any wonder that Amidala had been broken, by the end of the Clone Wars? Had she seen the man she loved turn into a monster before her very eyes? Watched the father of her child tearing down everything she'd worked to build over the course of a lifetime?

Had there really been no warning of what he would become?

"We will be arriving in twelve hours," Vader announced, startling Leia from her thoughts.

"You still haven't told us where we're headed to, General," said Rex.

Vader said nothing for a moment, which compelled Leia to look up at his face. He was glaring down at Rex. "Our destination is Mustafar," he said, at length.

Leia's stomach dipped in sudden fear. She'd never had any intention of returning the Mustafar system, if she could help it.

Rex remained unfazed. "Bit risky, to stow her away at your main residence."

"Which is precisely why it was the best location," Vader replied, tightly. "My master would expect such a failure to be shrouded in subterfuge."

"Typical," Leia muttered, half to herself. "Only you would be so bold."

"That's the General for you," Rex agreed. "So, what's the plan?"

Vader crossed his arms over his chest. "I will pose as a bounty hunter, and you two as my quarry. As I have had such mercenaries bring prisoners to Mustafar ahead of my arrival before, it should raise no suspicion."

"Assuming nobody's caught onto your betrayal yet," said Leia.

"It's highly unlikely," said Vader. A small smirk stretched across his mouth, making him look even younger than usual. Leia might've even called the expression roguish, had she seen it on anyone else. "And in the event that we encounter any resistance, it shall pose no threat to us. So long as you remain by my side."

It was no idle boast, Leia knew. Yet it did nothing to ease the growing pit in her stomach.

Wordlessly, she got to her feet and made her way to the cockpit.

"She's on edge," Rex noted, once the Princess had left them. "I don't think she's dealing so well with the news of what happened to her parents."

Vader almost corrected the clone on calling those traitorous impostors her parents, but managed to restrain himself. "You will tell me what you were discussing before I arrived."

"Sir, yes sir," said Rex, quirking a brow sardonically. "Her Highness was just asking me some questions."

"About Anakin Skywalker?" Vader said, voice low and dangerous.

Rex shook his head. "She doesn't seem all that curious about you, actually. Seemed upset that I was telling her stories from the Clone Wars." He sighed. "What'd you do to make her hate you so much, General?"

It should have pleased him, to hear that Leia put no stock in a dead man. But he knew it was because of the disdain she held for his present self. That he was an improvement over a failure like Skywalker made no difference to her.

"That is none of your concern," Vader snapped. "And I am no 'general'. You shall address me by the proper title."

The expression on Rex' face was akin to a parent appeasing a temperamental child. "As you wish, Lord Vader. I meant no disrespect."

Vader stood there for a moment, torn between punishing the clone for his insolence and demanding answers as to why he'd betrayed the Empire. But neither would bring him any satisfaction.

This...discomfort...had no doubt been Mothma's reason for insisting that Rex accompany them. A test, perhaps, to see if he could restrain himself.

He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"I shall speak to Leia," Vader said.

She was sitting in the pilot's seat when he returned, staring out into the whorls of hyperspace. Her emotions were a tangled mess in the Force, writhing like a serpent.

"What do you want?" she asked flatly.

"Rex has the impression that you have been unbalanced by the deaths of Queen Breha and Viceroy Organa." He didn't have the stomach to call them her 'parents'.

"He's mistaken," Leia said, tone icy. "I won't allow my personal feelings to interfere with the outcome of our mission."

The way she said the words reminded him so much of Padmé that he was left winded. He remembered, then, how Padmé had always thrown herself headlong into some crusade whenever something was upsetting her.

It had easily been one of her most frustrating habits. And it was no less infuriating to see it replicated so exactly in their daughter.

Because he knew where it ended: a reckless abandon, all other considerations subsumed behind an obsessive goal. In this state, Leia would no doubt make decisions without a single consideration for her own survival.

It made her dangerous. Both to her enemies and to herself.

"You haven't allowed yourself to mourn," he said.

"I don't have the time for such self-indulgence," snapped Leia. "The Empire -" there was a flare of outrage in the Force, "- your Empire, orphans countless children on a daily basis. Do you think that they have the luxury of wallowing in self-pity as they desperately try to get enough food to eat?" Her grip tightened on the armrests of her chair. "I owe those orphans a just Galaxy. Because, unlike them, I've never had to worry about starvation."

"You are not an orphan," Vader said, sharply.

"I am, in every way that matters," replied Leia. "Unless I'm confused, and Bail Organa was the one who tortured me for information, and you were the one who read me bedtime stories."

It was a low blow, and it struck true. He was momentarily rendered speechless by the sudden, acute sense of loss. The injustice of it all: that he had not been the one to watch her grow. That she had been stolen and twisted and turned into an enemy that he had been obliged to harm. "If I had known-"

She cut him off. "What? You would have spared me?" She whirled the chair around to glare at him. "If that's the case, then you have even less integrity than I thought."

He was reminded of someone else, just then: a boy, just on the cusp of manhood, lashing out in grief at an absent master. A master who had only acted according to his own flawed training. But still, the boy had raged and cursed. Even knowing full well that the only one who had failed his mother was himself.

And now here he was, faced once more with the culmination of all his failures. His own child, experiencing a pain that he understood all too well, and yet too alienated from him to accept any of the comfort he could muster. Paltry and clumsy though it was.

"I have no integrity," he said plainly. The fact that he was cooperating with the Alliance was proof enough of that. "So if you need to insult me in order to avoid confronting your feelings, I suggest you find another line of attack. Perhaps another reminder that I didn't have the chance to raise you myself?"

Leia's eyes burned with nothing less than loathing, even as a few tears managed to escape from them. "I wish it had been you, instead of them," she hissed, voice full of venom.

Alas, he found that he rather disliked how much she hated him. A weakness, he knew, for her hatred would prove to be an invaluable part of turning her. He should embrace it, twisting it to his own ends. And yet, her scorn still burned at his insides - the way that Mustafar's lava had burned away his flesh.

"I know," he said, once he was certain he could keep his voice from cracking. "And I understand."

Indeed, he understood all too well. What was done could not be undone, after all. And he had hurt Leia in a way that could not be forgotten, let alone forgiven.

By the way her face twisted, he could tell that it wasn't what she wanted him to say. Perhaps she'd been hoping for him to play the role of her callous enemy, instead - to mock her despair, proclaiming that those who'd raised her had gotten precisely what they deserved. To be a vessel into which she could empty her rage; a villainous monster composed of naught but the sum of his crimes. An effigy, rather than a man, who she could excoriate without any guilt.

"Don't," she said roughly, as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

He walked towards her, fighting to keep his gaze steady. "Do you regret your insistence that I discard my old suit?" he asked. "Would it be easier now, if I still wore it?"

"Shut up," she said, without as much fire. "Don't pretend like you wouldn't have killed them both yourself the second you had the chance." She let out a bitter laugh. "For the crime of taking me in and loving me, I guess. Would you have been happier if I'd wound up in an Imperial orphanage?"

"They knew exactly who you were," he spat, composure failing him. "Yet they hid you from me. Dangled you in front of me for years while allowing me to think you were dead."

She sniffed. "So, between hunting down Jedi to slaughter and subjugating entire species into slavery, you'd have found the time to tuck me into bed?"

"I suppose it doesn't occur to you," he ground out, "that knowing of your existence would have changed my priorities."

Her tone turned nasty, and it was with a sneer that she said, "I find that hard to believe."

"You shouldn't," he said, sharply. "It is only for your sake that I'm not currently hunting down and destroying every last piece of rebel scum in the Galaxy."

"Because you're trying to convince me to help you usurp the Emperor!" she yelled, standing suddenly. Her entire body trembled with rage and anguish. "Because you want to use the power you believe me to have! Not because you give a damn about me!" She took in a deep, shuddering breath. "But they loved me! And I loved them! And now they're gone!" She whirled away from him, then, hugging herself as she doubled over with a strangled sob.

Her despair hit him as a physical blow, leaving him winded.

"Leia..." he began, trying to find something - anything - to say.

"You wanted me to mourn?" she said, voice strained and wounded. "You have your wish, Lord Vader. Now get the hell away from me."

He was struck by a sudden impulse to embrace her - to cradle her in his arms and allow her to weep and rage into his chest. But he knew that she would push him away. Knew that she would be disgusted by his proximity. All he would do was cause her more pain.

Turning away from her, he did as she'd commanded.

Chapter Text

Leia spent a very long time alone in the cockpit, crying until her eyes began to hurt. It was like a dam had broken within her, and there was nothing she could do to stem the torrent that came forth but ride it out.

She didn't exactly feel better once it was over, but she did feel a little more grounded. Which she supposed was something. She forced herself to go back to the cabin, where she found Rex and Vader discussing the strategy they'd employ upon landing.

For all the open hostility that Vader had shown to Rex since they'd been reunited in Mon Mothma's office, there was no hint of it now. Indeed, had Leia not known them, she could've easily taken them for any two career soldiers engrossed in the finer points of an upcoming operation.

The spell was broken, however, when they noticed that she'd joined them.

"I'll take over in the cockpit," said Rex, standing. It was accepted safety protocol to have at least one person in the cockpit at any time during a long hyperspace journey, in the event that anything should go amiss. Given how few people actually stuck to this protocol, however, Leia suspected that Rex was just using it as an excuse to escape the near-palpable awkwardness that descended between herself and Vader. It wasn't like she could blame him.

She chose to sit directly across from Vader, because doing anything else would've felt like surrender.

Neither of them spoke.

She hadn't realized that she'd fallen asleep until she was awoken by a dream, the vivid details of it fading as soon as groggy awareness returned to her. Her neck was wedged against the edge of the sofa, already starting to ache; she leaned forward, using the heels of her hands to rub her eyes, and discovered that her back was aching too.

"We will be arriving within the hour," said Vader, who was still sitting in the same place, reading a datapad.

She'd need some caf and analgesics before they landed.

Standing on slightly wobbly legs, she went the lavatory, then set about her other tasks on autopilot. The dream kept slipping further and further away from her, no matter how she tried to grasp at it. Like the eels in the mountain streams that she'd played in as a child.

The only thing she was certain of was that it had involved Ahsoka.

She'd made two cups of caf without even realizing it, and debated going to the cockpit to give one of them to Rex. But she knew, somehow, that she hadn't made it for him. So she handed it to Vader instead, who took it gingerly after setting down his datapad, then sat back down across from him.

Leia finished hers quickly. She'd never taken pleasure in caf the way that her father had, with his specialized roasts from all over the Galaxy. For her, it had always been a matter of practicality, helped along with sweeteners and creamers. The ship had neither on-hand, so she settled for downing the bitter liquid as fast as she could.

Vader was still looking down at his with a bemused expression when she was done, apparently lost in thought.

"I suppose it's been a while since you've had any," she said, putting the mug on the floor and reaching for the small canteen of water that was strapped to the belt of her jumpsuit. She needed to wash the taste from her mouth.

"Twenty years," he replied, before he finally took a sip. He swallowed visibly, grimaced, then followed her example by downing the entire mug.

She handed him the canteen when he was done, which he accepted quickly and drank from in great gulps. It was empty when he gave it back. She wouldn't need to refill it before they landed, though, since she'd be playing the part of a prisoner.

The dream, for all that its details had escaped her grasp, had left her with several questions lingering in her mind. Having nothing better to do, Leia decided that she'd indulge her curiosity.

"Why did you freeze Ahsoka in carbonite instead of just killing her?" she asked.

Vader didn't answer for a several long moments, to the point that Leia thought he was ignoring her. She was just about to tell him off for such pettiness, when he finally spoke. "I foresaw that she might be of use to me. Had I not used the carbonite, my Master would have realized that she was still alive in short order."

So Rex had been right, after a fashion.

Since she'd already started with this line of questioning, Leia supposed that she may as well continue. "Who was she to you?" Rex's anecdotes had made it clear that Ahsoka and Vader had been close - as comrades, rather than lovers. But Leia had a feeling there was more to it than that.

"...She was Skywalker's apprentice," Vader said.

Leia felt a sudden, unexpected flare of annoyance. "Has nobody ever told you that it's obnoxious to speak of yourself in the third person? You're not some Hutt crime lord with delusions of grandeur."

"You deliberately mistake my meaning," he said, glaring at her.

Leia met his glare, unflinching. "If I am your daughter, then she was your apprentice. If this is your way of denying that fact, then it's below you." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Call yourself whatever you wish - I couldn't care less. But I honestly expected better from you than this pathetic attempt to distance yourself from the realities of the past." And it was true: she had come to respect Vader's self-awareness and candor, despite herself. He had his rationalizations, to be sure - but he'd never used them to try and deflect responsibility away from his own actions.

She wasn't sure who Vader was trying to protect with his disavowal of his identity as Anakin Skywalker. Whether it was some way to distance his present self from past shame, or to shield his past self from his present crimes, or some twisted combination of both. In truth, she didn't even care which was the case. She just knew that it made her blood boil.

"Anakin Skywalker is dead," he grit out, and Leia felt gooseflesh prickling across her skin. A warning. "I killed him."

She sneered, using the wash of disdain to quash the fear that squirmed to life in her belly. "If only I could so easily hide from the past by changing my name and claiming some kind of metaphysical suicide," Leia said, her voice like ice. "Is this another tenet of your religion that I can look forward to embracing when you finally convince me that it isn't an evil, loathsome cult?"

"You know not of what you speak," he said, more softly, and some warmth returned to the cabin.

"Maybe not," she said. "But I want to make one thing very clear, Lord Vader: your personal identity issues mean nothing to me. I have no reason to believe that a man named Anakin Skywalker would be any more or less contemptible than the man named Darth Vader. So all you do when you speak of your own past as if it belongs to another is make me question your sanity. And then I begin to think that I've thrown in my lot with a madman, which makes me question the wisdom of relying on you for anything. Religious instruction or otherwise."

Vader was silent for several long, tense moments, a scowl twisting his handsome face into something entirely unpleasant. She found herself wondering just how often he'd worn that expression under the mask. And also what he'd look like if he actually smiled. Not a smirk, or one of the bitter, empty imitations he sometimes wore. But a true, genuine smile.

He'd shine as brightly as a sun, she was sure. The thought made her glad to have never witnessed it.

"I may well be mad," he said at last, his hands relaxing out of the fists they'd made. "It is in the very nature of madness to believe oneself sane."

"How comforting," said Leia, flatly.

"I will not offer you empty reassurances," Vader replied. "Our destinies are intertwined. Neither of us can escape that now - for good or ill."

With a sigh, Leia stood and turned away from him. "Let's go rescue your apprentice from the prison you made for her, then."

Their descent to the planet's surface went off without a hitch, which was only to be expected when they had an insider like Vader to help them. All of his security codes were up-to-date, after all.

Leia could admit that it was something of a nice change, given the risk and toil involved in acquiring what often turned out to be unreliable codes. She wondered how long they'd have such a trump card.

Vader had given the pseudonym "Lars Quell" over the comm, and done a surprisingly passable impression of a typical scoundrel. It was surreal to see the Sith Lord slip into an Outer Rim accent and speak with anything less than absolute formality.

"Reusing code names goes against standard protocol, sir," said Rex, once the comm channel had been closed and they'd initiated descent.

"The Empire does not employ Zygerrians," Vader replied dryly.

Leia guessed that there was a story behind the exchange, but didn't care enough to make inquiries.

Within minutes, they landed on the planet's surface.

Mustafar looked different to him.

The planet had been a birth-place, of sorts - had given him power with the reminder of all that had been stolen from him. And yet, it now seemed somehow...diminished. Like the mining planet it had once been, rather than a hellish embodiment of Vader's very existence.

They had landed only meters away from Vader's fortress. Leia was taking in the surroundings with an expression that was carefully neutral, and yet somehow still haughty. "And I thought Nur was bad," she said. She quirked a brow at him. "This is a little much, even for you."

"The aesthetic is incidental," Vader said. "Though it has proven to be an asset in the past."

"Incidental to what?" she asked, dubious, while unconsciously pulling at her bindings. Both she and Rex were wearing them in order to maintain the ruse.

"Now is not the time. If you are still curious once our task is completed, I will elaborate."

Vaneé came out to meet them, his suspicion clear in the Force despite no outward sign of it in his demeanor. A foolish potential saboteur or thief would perhaps be convinced by the appearance of Vaneé being the sole line of defense. They'd quickly discover that killing the servant proved fatal, as he was the sole being - besides Vader himself - who could deactivate the security system.

"Lord Vader is not in residence," Vaneé said, in his usual serpentine manner. "I will require confirmation that you are who you claim."

"Indeed," said Vader, before he unholstered his blaster and shot Vaneé in the head. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Neither Rex nor Leia were surprised; he'd explained the purpose of Vaneé's death while they had still been aboard the ship. But Leia still did not look pleased.

"Such is the mercy afforded to those who serve Darth Vader," she said, as Vader undid their restraints.

"I suppose you'd have found it less objectionable if you had been the one to pull the trigger," Vader retorted. "Since I know you understand its necessity."

"He's not wrong, Your Highness," said Rex, rubbing gingerly at his wrists. "There was no alternative. He recognized you the moment he saw you, and would've insisted that any mask you wore be removed."

Leia's mouth tightened, though she raised no further objections. Vader understood that her discomfort came from a misplaced sense of honor. The weight of murder hung lighter when undertaken in the heat of battle. Premeditated murder no doubt struck her as a greater evil, despite the outcome being identical either way.

Vader supposed he was fortunate that Rex had come along, if only to serve as a voice of reason in the face of Leia's stubbornness. The clone at least understood, from years of hard-won experience, that war was no place for honor.

He put the blaster back in its holster and strode toward the fortress, Leia and Rex in tow.

"Do not stray far from me," said Vader, as they moved down one of the labyrinthine corridors of his fortress. "It's easy to become lost in this place, if one is not intimately familiar with its layout."

"I'd like to say that I can't believe that you actually decided to live in a place like this," said Leia. "But I'm starting to see a pattern in your life choices."

Vader would've pointed out that he didn't actually live in the fortress, so much as use it as a base of operations for when he had to recover from a mission, or wait for a new mission to present itself. But he suspected that this would simply reinforce whatever conclusion Leia had already come to.

A conclusion which, he suspected, was entirely correct.

They continued on in tense silence, until they reached the room which housed Ahsoka Tano.

The first time Vader had faced Ahsoka on Malachor, he had actually been trying to kill her.

It hadn't taken much effort at all, really, to summon up the hatred and rage that he'd needed. With the aggression in her eyes, and the fresh weight of her betrayal, it had been all too easy.

But going through with his plans had not been the will of the Force - evident in the fact that she'd disappeared before his very eyes. One moment, he'd been fighting her, and the next she'd been gone, his lightsaber meeting empty air just as he'd started to plunge through a crumbling platform.

He'd returned to Malachor months later on a hunch, seeking to finish what he'd started. When he'd finally found her, however, she had been...unwell. Malnourished, curled in a fetal position, weeping and muttering. Ahsoka was strong, but even she could not have resisted the ravages of a Sith temple indefinitely.

It would have been one thing, to kill her in honorable combat. But to strike her down when she was in such a helpless state? Vader had found the thought of it...distasteful.

"She won't come near me," Ahsoka had said, tears running down her cheeks. "I'm tainted, like I was before. I've failed her."

"You speak of Mortis," Vader had replied. The only time Ahsoka had ever come close to touching the Dark Side had been when it was foisted upon her. True surrender required one to be wholly willing; on Mortis, she had been as one possessed by a parasite. A parasite that had ultimately killed her.

Her eyes had scrunched closed, then, her body trembling in his arms. "Please kill me, master. I'm so tired."

He could have, if she had once again been staring him down with fierce, unforgiving eyes. Swearing vengeance. But instead her eyes had been unfocused with pain and sadness, her body entirely too thin. It would have been a mercy, perhaps, to grant her request.

Vader was not a merciful man.

So he had brought her to a medical station and overseen her recovery, instead, making sure she would be strong enough to survive the carbon freezing process. He hadn't known precisely when he planned to thaw her free. For years, the vague future possibility of overthrowing his Master had crossed his mind - ephemeral and distant. And Ahsoka's fate had become another variable in that half-formed ambition. In the event that he ever did finally decide to strike down his Master, he'd once more awaken her. He would give her the opportunity to make the right choice. And in the event the she still refused him, still insisted on clinging to the ideology of the Jedi who had forsaken her - only then  would he destroy her.

That had been what he'd told himself, at least, as he'd watched an attendant lead her to the platform. She'd been in much better shape than when he'd brought her in, with something of her old spark glittering in her eyes. She'd gazed up at him impassively, saying nothing.

Accepting her fate with dignity, like a true Jedi.

He'd been caught off-guard by the flare of pride in his chest, and had quashed it as he gave the order to lower her into the device. He'd struck down the attendant once the deed was done.

It had only been afterward that he'd actually looked at Ahsoka's frozen form, and seen the small, sad smile on her face. Etched there in lifeless grey relief.

And now that he was looking at it once more, he thought that it was a little knowing, as well.

"Did you know about her from the start?" he asked, and immediately felt absurd.

'Fulcrum' had certainly been a close associate of Organa's - and Leia evidently knew Ahsoka personally, if not well. The idea that Ahsoka hadn't trained Leia herself was oddly galling, if she truly had known of Leia's parentage. An emotional response, he knew, that was no less irrational than asking a lifeless hunk of carbonite a question.

He let out a harsh breath and raised his arms, using the Force to levitate the heavy gray slab out of the chamber.

Chapter Text

Having achieved their objective of retrieving Ahsoka Tano, Leia had thought the next phase of the plan involved returning to their ship as quickly as possible. But it was becoming increasingly clear that Vader was leading them even deeper into the belly of the fortress.

"Where are we going now?" asked Leia. Her analgesics must have been wearing off, because she could feel her headache returning with a vengeance.

"There is something I must attend to before we depart," Vader replied. For a man who was levitating a slab of carbonite with his mind, he was astonishingly nonchalant. "It should not delay us for long."

"This wasn't part of the plan, sir," said Rex, though that didn't seem to bother him overly much. It was more of a neutral observation than a reprimand.

"I have altered the plan," said Vader, with finality.

Leia's head was starting to pound in earnest by the time they reached Vader's ultimate destination - some kind of control hub and a bacta tank at its center. She guessed that the bulk of Vader's sojourns at the castle involved this room. It felt like the truth, somewhere deep in her gut.

How utterly depressing.

Vader was fiddling with one of the terminals, in much the same way he'd fiddled with the terminal on the Death Star. The reminder did nothing to ease her apprehension.

Her suspicions were confirmed when Vader announced: "We have fifteen minutes to evacuate."

She swallowed her anger and allowed him to lead herself and Rex out of the castle. He'd given them enough time that they just needed to walk briskly, rather than run, but the knowledge that certain death was looming over her did nothing to help Leia's ever-worsening headache.

By the time they were back on the ship, Leia was primed for something to go horribly wrong. Rex hurried to activate the shields and get them airborne, while she finally allowed herself to turn her temper loose on Vader.

"You couldn't have told us ahead of time that you were planning to set that awful place to self-destruct!?"

"I didn't know ahead of time," said Vader. He had set Ahsoka's frozen form up against the wall of the cabin, so his arms were free to cross over his chest.

She gaped at him, temporarily speechless. Leia had worked with many impulsive people over the course of her life, but Vader put all of them to shame. She was beginning to think that, back on the Death Star, he really had chosen to help her without any forethought whatsoever. It wasn't that the man was incapable of laying out long-term plans - the Alliance knew all too well how calculating he could be - so much as he was willing to abandon them on a whim. By the way Rex had taken it all in stride, she could only conclude that this had been the case as far back as the Clone Wars.

Which was probably part of what made Vader so effective. And dangerous.

With a sigh, all the anger drained out of Leia's body, leaving nothing but the headache behind.

Vader called out to Rex: "Hover within visual range."

"Yes sir," Rex called back, and the vessel ceased moving.

Vader began to walk to the cockpit, but paused to ask, "Will you join me, Leia?"

A part of her wanted to decline. It was a petty, childish part of her, however. Silently, she followed him.

Vader still wasn't certain why he'd decided to destroy the castle. He had gone through great trials in order to secure it, after all, and it would have no doubt proven to be useful in the future - despite his temporary shift in allegiance. Still, the stray thought had come to him as they'd entered the fortress, and had coalesced into a compulsion with every subsequent step. One that he hadn't tried very hard to resist.

And, as he watched the hard-won bastion become engulfed in flames, with Leia by his side, he couldn't bring himself to feel an iota of regret.

On the one hand, Leia could appreciate the symbolic meaning behind Vader's act of vandalism. It represented his commitment to his new path as much as his abandonment of the suit had done. On the other hand, she couldn't help but wonder if they'd just put up the equivalent of a giant holoboard proclaiming that Vader had betrayed the Empire.

It had admittedly been only a matter of time before somebody in the Empire realized it. She had just hoped that it would be later, rather than sooner.

"How long before word of this gets out?" she asked, as Rex resumed their previous course.

"I imagine a report has already been dispatched," Vader replied. "Though it may take several days for it to reach the Emperor."

"Because the officers in charge will want to make sure that they can't be held responsible," Leia surmised.

"Precisely."

"That's what happens when you make death the price for failure," said Rex.

"Every system has its strengths and weaknesses," said Vader.

Leia scoffed. "Selecting for psychopathy is not what I'd consider a 'strength'."

"It also selects for genuine competence. I can assure you that it is very easy to tell the difference."

She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. There were more important things to do than argue politics with a religious zealot. "I'm going to revive Ahsoka."

At once, Vader tensed. "We should wait until we return to the base."

"I'm not waiting," Leia snapped, her patience having long since worn down to nothing.

"She will be weak and disoriented after being frozen for such an extended period of time, and this vessel lacks adequate medical facilities."

"I'll activate the med-droid we brought along," said Rex, which earned him an annoyed glare from the Sith Lord. "The Commander's resilient. Not least because of your training, Lord Vader. I've no doubt she'll be fine before long."

Vader looked as though he'd just swallowed something particularly unappetizing, but he put forth no further objections.

Vader followed Leia and Rex into the cabin, watching with silent disapproval as Leia used the control panel on the side of the carbonite to initiate the unfreezing process. Within seconds, the matte grey surrounding Ahsoka's form turned molten red, beams of light shining outward from where the carbonite was starting to melt away. It was oddly beautiful, despite the circumstances. Indeed, Leia was so entranced by the spectacle that she failed to react in time, and Ahsoka's body slumped out of the carbonite shell like a sack of tubers.

It was Vader who caught her with his telekinesis, much to Leia's embarrassment. He eased her limp body onto the floor of the cabin with surprising gentleness.

With a full-body shiver, Ahsoka drew in a breath. Then her eyes fluttered open. It was clear, by the way she stared out at nothing, that she was suffering from the characteristic blindness of carbon sickness.

After another long, shaky breath, Ahsoka pushed herself up with wobbly arms, her brow-ridges drawing together. "...Master?" she asked, voice hoarse from disuse.

"No," said Vader, his entire body taut. Leia could practically feel the tension roiling off of him.

Her expression became sad; her voice, resigned. "I'm surprised you finally deigned to free yourself of the suit."

Rex spoke next, stooping down to place a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder. "That's a very long story, I imagine."

Her face brightened as much as her diminished state would allow. "Rex." She smiled weakly, covering his hand with one of her own. "I'd hug you, but my muscles aren't working so well at the moment. I knew I could count on you to still be alive."

"Us clones are tough to kill," he replied, his eyes softening.

Ahsoka's face turned in Leia's direction, despite her eyes failing to focus. "Leia?" she asked.

"It's good to see you again," Leia replied.

Ahsoka let out a sigh, releasing Rex's hand. "A long story sounds about right."

Vader's mouth had set into a hard, thin line. Without another word, he stormed his way out of the cabin.

"He's even grumpier than the last time I got thawed out of carbonite," said Ahsoka.

"He's on his best behavior," said Rex. "I think he's pleased to see you."

"'Pleased' is not the word that I would use," Ahsoka replied dryly.

Leia activated the medical droid they'd stashed in the corner of the room, which made its way almost immediately to Ahsoka. "I detect that you have acute carbon sickness," it said. "It will resolve itself in time, but you will require nutrition, hydration, and rest."

Leia located the bag of medical supplies and pulled out several pouches of liquid. They contained saline mixed with amino acids, glucose, and bacta, all specifically calibrated for Togruta biology. Rex picked Ahsoka up with some effort, as her muscles couldn't help him support her weight, and maneuvered her onto one of the cabin's couches.

"You guys came prepared," Ahsoka noted, once she was lying down on the couch. "I guess that's all part of the 'long story'."

Leia sat down on the couch across from her as the medical droid inserted the intravenous needle into one of Ahsoka's arms. "I don't know if we should tell you now or after you're feeling better," she admitted. "I still get a little dizzy when I think about it too long, and I'm not suffering from carbon sickness."

Ahsoka gave another weak smile, though her eyes remained fixed ahead of her. "Now is as good a time as any."

Rex took a seat beside Leia. "Where would you like us to start, Commander?"

"I guess the most pressing question is: why is Vader helping you?"

Leia took a deep breath, and explained.

"...I'd suspected," Ahsoka said, once Leia was finished. "I never asked Bail, though. Your position afforded you some measure of protection from the Inquisitors. I wanted it to stay that way, in case I was ever compromised."

Leia understood. Sometimes, it was just better not to know. Though, in an ironic twist, an Inquisitor had ended up coming for Leia due to totally unrelated reasons.

When she continued, Ahsoka's voice was tinged with sadness. "Bail is dead, isn't he."

"...Yes," Leia replied, her voice catching on the word. She could feel the tears bubbling once more to the surface, but quashed the impulse ruthlessly. "He and my mother were executed not long before we undertook this mission."

"I'm so sorry, Leia," Ahsoka said.

All at once, Leia's diplomatic training failed her. She didn't know what to say. Her parents had been Ahsoka's friends, after all; their deaths were far more than an 'unfortunate incident' to the older woman. But every response that came to Leia's mind felt like platitudes - empty and insincere. With a deep breath, she decided that changing the subject was the best course of action.

"The Empire has constructed a superweapon called the 'Death Star'. It was there that Vader and I discovered our...familial connection. They say it has the power to destroy planets." She swallowed. "Had Vader not interrupted Tarkin's attempt to destroy Alderaan, I have no doubt that his demonstration of the Death Star's power would've proven successful."

"We must destroy it," Ahsoka said, grimly.

Leia nodded. "My mission, before Vader captured me, was to secure the plans to the Death Star. We have reason to believe that it has a structural weakness that we can target."

"That's quite the gamble," Ahsoka noted.

"It's one that we couldn't afford not to make," Leia replied.

"The plans hadn't arrived yet, when we left," Rex interjected. "But we're primed and ready to go the moment that they do."

Leia's belly squirmed at the reminder.

Ahsoka took in a long, slow breath, let it out, and then Vader was storming back into the cabin.

"What do you want?" he demanded, indignation clear in his voice, before he stopped dead in his tracks to take in the scene before him.

Ahsoka was outwardly unfazed, although Leia thought she could detect a slight edge to her tone as she said: "Leia and Rex are under the impression that an Imperial weapon called the 'Death Star' has a structural weakness to exploit. Are they correct?"

Vader glared at her, nostrils flaring, then ground out, "They are not mistaken."

Leia started. "You knew about it?" she asked, the squirming in her belly knotting into something painful. "Does the Emperor know?"

Vader's glare remained fixed on Ahsoka. "My Master, despite his pretensions, is not omniscient. I failed to inform him of my observations."

Ahsoka turned her unfocused gaze to Vader, her expression unreadable. "So there was still some fight left in you, after everything."

Vader had said that he didn't agree with the Death Star's construction, but it had never occurred to Leia that he might have purposefully overlooked a flaw in its design. "You never asked me about the plans," she murmured, her own gaze unfocusing as she recalled the details of her interrogation. It had been...thorough, and painful. He had asked her repeatedly about the location of the Rebel Base. And yet, he had never asked about what she'd done with the Death Star plans.

"He was probably counting on the Rebellion to do his dirty work," said Ahsoka. "He would've put up a convincing front of trying to stop you. In a way that ensured that he wouldn't be on-board this 'Death Star' when you mounted your attack." She gave a sardonic little quirk of her lips. "He's never been one to hang back on the sidelines during a battle, and he is quite the accomplished pilot."

"Your carbon sickness has not diminished your wits," said Vader, tersely.

"Finding creative ways to subvert authority has always been your specialty," she replied, then returned her focus to Leia. Her accuracy in spite of her carbon blindness was eerie, despite Leia knowing full well that Togruta were capable of echolocation. "Though I wouldn't give him too much credit. I bet that he just couldn't stomach being replaced as the most dangerous weapon in the Empire's arsenal. The welfare of the Galaxy is somewhere near the bottom of his list of priorities."

Vader rolled his eyes, some of the tension leaving his body. "You know not of what you speak, little Padawan."

And just like that, Ahsoka was on the defensive. "Don't give me that poodoo, Vader. The Sith never do anything unless it can be of some benefit to themselves."

Vader smirked. "Do be advised, Leia, that Ahsoka never completed her Jedi training. She abandoned the endeavor the moment circumstances became too difficult. Yet she presumes to lecture others on the nature of selfishness."

Leia could see the words strike Ahsoka as if they were a physical blow.

"Commander Tano needs her rest," interjected Rex.

"She should have thought of that before she summoned me."

"You're right," said Ahsoka. She really did sound exhausted. "It won't happen again, Darth."

"See that it doesn't," Vader said, before returning to the cockpit.

Leia reached up to rub at her aching temples.

Chapter Text

A few hours had passed. Ahsoka had dozed off, and Rex had gone to join Vader in the cockpit. Leia was staring out at hyperspace, her mind whirling. Trying to stave off another bout of useless, self-indulgent grief.

Ahsoka stirred. Too soon, by Leia’s reckoning, given how much Ahsoka needed to rest. Automatically, Leia got up and went to pour Ahsoka a cup of water.

“You have questions,” Ahsoka said when Leia handed it to her, sounding exactly as tired as she looked.

Leia sighed, sitting down across from her. She supposed she’d just have to get used to Force users who could sense her emotions. “I can ask them another time, when you have more strength.”

Ahsoka took a sip from her cup, then set it down on the floor beside her. “War doesn’t always allow for ‘another time’,” she said. “I want to help you, if I can.”

Leia crossed her arms over her chest, considering how to word the question so as to not accidentally insult the older woman. "Vader doesn't lie to me," Leia said. "At least, he hasn't yet. But I'm not the kind of idiot who thinks his perspective is anything but warped. He said you were selfish because you left the Jedi Order. But...I'd like to hear your side of the story, if you're up for it."

"I'll probably never be up for it," Ahsoka admitted. "But you're right to doubt the judgment of one who's succumbed to the Dark Side, so I'll just have to suck it up." She took in a deep breath. Let it out. "About three years into the War, I was framed for a terrorist attack on the Jedi Temple. The Senate insisted that I be put on trial, and the Order expelled me in order to minimize the political fallout." She let out another breath, this one shakier than the last. "Anakin managed to find the real culprit before the trial concluded. Afterward, the Order offered to take me back."

"And you refused," guessed Leia. It's what she would've done in the same position, after all. Her father had always spoken highly of the Jedi. But it was clear now that he'd been simplifying matters because he'd still thought she was too young to appreciate the nuances. Her impressions of the Order based on her experiences with Ben, Kanan, and Ezra were obviously not representative of what it had been like before the Republic fell.

"And I refused," Ahsoka confirmed. "I still believed in the Force. In the Light. But I had lost my faith in the Jedi." Her voice became quieter. "Anakin wasn’t happy with my decision, but I still thought that he understood why I did it." A sigh. "And maybe he did, for a little while. But now all that’s left is the resentment, because that's what the Dark Side does: it takes all the pettiest, most selfish parts of a person, amplifies them, and burns away everything else."

"Or maybe he was always this petty and selfish," said Leia. "Maybe he just stopped trying to hide it. Or be better." 

Ahsoka shook her head. "I won't deny that Anakin was always rough around the edges. But his generosity, his compassion? Those were just as real as anything else. Anakin wasn't perfect by any measure, but he was a good man. I was proud to call him Master." She swallowed visibly. "And Vader wasn't wrong: my choice to leave the Jedi Order was ultimately a selfish one. I knew that Anakin was trapped in a system that was failing him just as much as it had failed me, but I couldn't find the patience to try and guide him to another path. I left him behind, even though I knew that I was one of the few people who might actually help him to break free."

Leia could sympathize with Ahsoka’s feelings all too well. But, she also felt very strongly that Ahsoka was wrong. With a deep breath, she said, "After my Day of Demand, my parents finally let me lead humanitarian missions. The thing is, I wasn't content to just go around helping hungry people; I wanted to prove that I was ready to join the Rebellion." And, she was ashamed to admit, get her parents' attention. "So I got the bright idea to use my humanitarian efforts as a ruse to steal imperial ships." Her belly squirmed in shame."Without consulting my parents, naturally, because they were just so busy."

"Ah," said Ahsoka. "Perfidy."

"Right," Leia confirmed. "Of course, I didn't know it was perfidy at the time. I was just a dumb, overeager kid who hadn't read the materials on wartime ethics that my parents had given me because I found them too boring. And when I returned to Alderaan, triumphant, I expected my parents to be — well, maybe a little angry, that I'd put myself in danger. But proud, as well." She let out a weak little laugh. "I don't think my parents were ever angrier at me than on that day." They'd yelled at her about all the possible consequences. About the complaints they'd already received, and the suspicion it had already brought down on the Alderaanian court.  "I tried to pass the responsibility onto others. Why had none of the rebel cells I worked with said something? Weren't they the experienced soldiers? But my father pointed out that none of them were Imperially-recognized royalty that could conduct official humanitarian work in the first place."

Her parents hadn't let her go on another mission for a year after that.

"My father said that he trusted me, not long before he—" Leia cut herself off, throat clenching painfully with a sharp, sudden grief. It had been the last thing he’d ever said to her, in fact, before he’d sent her off on the mission to retrieve the Death Star plans. That there was nobody better for the mission, because he trusted her more than anyone. There was a part of her that hadn’t believed him, then. And now, that feeling had been validated; he clearly hadn’t trusted her enough to reveal who her biological parents were. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Leia said, "But I wonder, sometimes, if my parents would still be alive if not for my carelessness back then."

"For what it’s worth," said Ahsoka, "I doubt it made a difference. Bail was a brilliant man, but there's no way he could've kept his Rebel ties under wraps indefinitely."

Leia quirked an eyebrow at Ahsoka. It was an unconscious gesture, since she knew Ahsoka couldn't see it just yet. "That goes for you, too. You said you were framed, right? Well, whoever orchestrated that was probably trying to get you out of the picture. Do you think they would've just given up if you hadn't left when you did?"

"No," Ahsoka said, her mouth twisting downward. "He wouldn't have."

“The Emperor?” Leia guessed.

Ahsoka nodded. “The Chancellor, at the time.”

“So, maybe your decision was selfish. But maybe it’s the only reason you’re alive to feel guilty in the first place.”

Ahsoka let out a rueful breath of laughter. “Bail and Breha taught you well.”

“They did,” Leia said. “Even if I didn’t always take those lessons to heart.” Of course, one of those lessons had been recognizing when somebody was no longer emotionally equiped to continue a conversation. And Ahsoka had clearly reached that point, by the way her face had become drawn with fatigue and sadness. Leia had so many more questions. About the Dark Side. About the Emperor. About Vader. 

But it wouldn’t be fair to ask them now.

“Thank you,” Leia murmured. 

“Any time,” Ahsoka replied.

Vader was almost thankful for Rex’s company, when the clone came to join him. If only because it provided him with a distraction from his own spiraling thoughts. 

Rex sat down in the co-pilot’s chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. Vader was half expecting Rex to start talking about Ahsoka. Instead, Rex said, “You worked for the Empire for twenty years. You must’a noticed that something was off.”

Vader frowned at him, shifting minutely in his seat. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Well, for starters, I wore Stormtrooper armor a few years back,” said Rex, casually. “Do you know that it’s impossible to aim in those helmets?”

Vader was aware of the issue. “The Imperial Navy has allocated more resources to constructing weapons than manufacturing armor.” And Vader had no say in the matter.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Rex acknowledged. “But it’s not like that’s the only thing that’s strange about how the Empire’s run. Seems to me like Imperial officers get promoted due to practically everything but actual competence. And I don’t know much about what it’s like back in the Core these days, but the Empire punishes its Outer Rim territories whether they cooperate or not. Like they’re actively trying to get people riled up.” Rex frowned. “I’m a soldier. I understand better than anyone that sometimes there’s no peaceful solution. But, as far as I can tell, the Empire actively avoids any course of action that doesn’t involve as much suffering and violence as possible. Sometimes even at the expense of order.” He stroked his beard. “Frankly, it doesn’t make a lick a’ sense. Unless there’s something else going on. Something…Sith-related.”

Ah, so that was Rex's angle. Vader couldn’t help but be impressed, though he really should have expected it. Few Clone Troopers had as much experience with the Sith as Rex, and Rex had always been astute. “You’re correct,” Vader said. “The Emperor is a Sith Lord, and chiefly concerned with expanding his powers. For him, the Empire has always been a means to that end.”

Rex nodded in understanding. “Makes sense.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’re on board with it, being a Sith yourself?”

“I wouldn’t have turned against him if I was,” Vader said. He’d be insulted, if not for the fact that he truly had done nothing about it for the past twenty years — besides disposing of as many incompetents as possible. He wasn’t ashamed; he could see now that his acquiescence had been a necessity up to this point. Moving too soon due to outrage, and thus undermining his long-term goals, was the kind of weakness that he’d purged from himself. “The Sith are as arrogant and obsolete as the Jedi were, and shall meet the same fate. This has always been my destiny.” 

There was a surge of anger and sadness in the Force. “I won’t pretend to understand why you came to hate the Jedi so much, or why you decided that every last one of ‘em needed to die. But it was an awful thing, what my brothers were forced to do. What you helped 'em to do.”

“It was awful,” Vader agreed. To say that he’d come to hate the Jedi was a mischaracterization. With few exceptions, the purge hadn’t been personal. “It was also necessary. And it makes no difference if you understand why.”

Rex let out a sigh, running a hand over his bald head. A few minutes of tense silence passed.

Eventually, Rex spoke again. “I’ve never cared much about the politics of it all,” he said, sounding calmer. “Clones were born to follow orders. To fight without worrying about the why of anything. But, after a while, most of us on the front lines learned that there was a good reason to fight the Separatists. We were proud to serve the Republic. Not because it was a democracy, but because it was the side of war that wasn’t deliberately targeting civilians.” 

“Is there a point to this?” Vader asked. 

“The point is: I don’t give a damn about what kind a' system is used to run the Galaxy. I only care about whether it’s being run well.” Rex looked right at Vader, eyes filled with determination. “And if you’re planning to put the Princess on the throne of the Empire, then you’ve got yourself an ally.”

That was not one of the things that Vader had expected Rex to say, and he could sense that Rex meant it. Vader was tempted to ask why, but held himself back. It didn’t matter.

Instead, he said, “Betray me, and I will make you suffer.”

Rex gave him a wry quirk of his lips. “Roger roger, sir.”

Chapter Text

Rex escorted Ahsoka to the medbay once they landed, allowing her to rest her weight on him as they walked together.

Leia and Vader were summoned to the War Room. 

Mon was there, of course, standing as she usually did during briefings. But there were also two of the three resident Generals sitting on either side of her: Hera Syndulla and Davits Draven. Of the two, Hera was the one who recognized Vader. It was obvious by the look of shock on her face. Rex had mentioned that Ahsoka had shown her and the rest of her cell a ‘holocron’ of Vader’s younger self. Some kind of holographic recording, Leia surmised.

Besides those three, the room was eerily empty.

“Where’s General Dodonna?” Leia asked, taking a seat at the circular table. At first, Vader stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring Mon down. But Leia shot him an expectant glare. With a scoff, he sat down beside her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The Death Star plans have arrived,” Mon said. “General Dodonna is with the team in charge of analyzing the data.”

The knot of tension that had been coiled tightly within Leia since she’d sent the plans off with Artoo loosened just a little. “Finally,” she breathed.

“Lord Vader,” Mon acknowledged. “This is General Syndulla and General Draven.“ To the Generals, she said, “Vader has returned Ahsoka Tano to us, as promised. And, as I explained in our earlier briefing, he prevented the destruction of Alderaan. In light of that, I think we should hear him out.”

“One good deed doesn’t cancel out everything else that he’s done,” said Hera, glaring at Vader. Her anger had apparently superseded her shock. 

“I would list his crimes,” said Draven, his clipped Core accent lending his words extra bite, “but I can scarcely think of where to begin.”

“I can think of where to begin,” said Hera. To Vader, she said: “You slaughtered an entire village of freed slaves on Ryloth. They weren’t rebels; they were just trying to live their lives in peace.”

“Yes,” Vader said, without any hint of shame. “They were witnesses to the Emperor’s Force abilities, and he ordered me to kill them in order to preserve his secret identity as Darth Sidious.”

Leia had to resist the urge to cringe. She’d known, intellectually, that Vader had murdered many civilians. But to hear him rationalize it so plainly was awful in a way that even his callousness towards his own soldiers was not. It was so unsettling that the fact that Vader had just outright admitted that the Emperor was a Sith Lord took a few moments to sink in. It seemed ridiculously obvious, in hindsight.

“So - what?" Hera demanded. "You were just following orders?”  

“No,” Vader said. “I made the choice to follow orders. I am merely explaining that it was not an act of random or capricious violence.” His gaze was cold. Unwavering. “Your feelings betray you; your antipathy stems chiefly from the fact that I am ultimately the one responsible for the death of Kanan Jarrus. My other acts are of secondary concern.”

“You’re a monster,” Hera hissed. 

“A useful monster,” Vader said. He uncrossed his arms and jabbed his index finger at her. “There are many Imperial defectors within your ranks, General Syndulla, and almost all of them have participated in behavior that the Alliance would classify as war crimes. Former ISB agent Kallus, for example. We worked together briefly on Lothal, and he was positively eager at the prospect of harming civilians to draw out your rebel cell. As I recall, he was also heavily involved in the scourging of Lasan.”

“That is true,” Mon interjected. “But these defectors have all agreed to stand trial once the Republic is restored. They joined us because they saw the Empire for the evil it truly is.” Her gaze was just as cold as Vader’s. “I do not get the impression that you have similar sentiments, Lord Vader.”

“I think the desire to restore the Republic is foolish,” Vader confirmed. “But the Empire as it exists now is far from optimal. The Emperor must die.”

“Why is it far from optimal?” asked Draven. “I’m sure we’d all be interested to hear your insights on the matter.”

It was plainly a test, and Leia felt a thrill of anxiety over what Vader’s answer might be. 

Evidently, Vader did not share her trepidation. “When I first took my place as the Emperor’s enforcer, he advised me to use restraint — saying that he did not wish to rule over an empire of the dead. But this was not benevolence, nor was it pragmatism. Rather, it was all part of a long-term strategy. He wished to raise the hopes of those under his dominion. This helped him to secure his power, of course, but its true purpose was to maximize the impact of revealing that their hope had been a lie. That peace is a lie.”

“Are you saying that the Emperor is fomenting discontent on purpose?” Draven asked, clearly skeptical. 

“He is,” Vader said. “Both within the ranks of his military and in the public at large. The purpose of the Death Star was never to enforce order, but to ignite a civil war.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Hera said. “Why would he be trying to undermine the stability of his own Empire?”

“As I said, the Emperor is a Sith Lord. I will not bore you with an extensive explanation of Force philosophy, but, in short: the Dark Side is usually fed by the user’s own emotions. The Emperor is a psychopath, however, and lacks the depth of emotion necessary to sustain such powers. As such, he has found a way to utilize the emotions of others in order to strengthen himself.”

It all suddenly clicked in Leia’s mind. “He feeds off our misery like a parasite.” It was almost fitting, that the rumors about Vader were actually true of the Emperor.

“Correct,” Vader said. “My destiny has always been the establishment of order. Of balance. As such, I cannot abide the Emperor’s ambitions. I joined the Empire to put an end to destructive conflict.”

“Let’s say that we buy all that,” said Hera. “Why now? You’ve had twenty years to realize what he’s really up to, so what changed?”

“And why join us, instead of simply usurping him from the inside?” Draven pressed.

“The Force revealed this to be the correct path,” Vader said. “Leia may elaborate on the details, if she wishes.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Leia, and her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. Damn him. “If we’re to continue this discussion,” Leia said, mouth set in a grim line, “then I think it would be best for Vader to leave.” She couldn’t be truly candid while he was here.

The Generals exchanged dubious looks.

Vader rolled his eyes. “Put me in whatever passes for a brig, if it will make you feel more secure.”

“He’s more powerful than Kanan ever was,” Hera said, scowling. “I don’t think we could actually hold him anywhere, if he was really determined to escape.”

Mon looked at Leia. “Do you think he can be trusted to walk freely around the base?”

“Yes,” Leia said. She could feel that it was true. “Vader is a murderous war criminal, but he isn’t stupid. He knows that we’re the only option he has left.”

Vader smirked humorlessly. “Her Highness’ faith in me is, as always, touching.” 

Mon gave a short nod. “You may leave, then, provided that you exercise discretion.”

Leia was wrong that the Alliance was Vader’s only option.

It would certainly be inconvenient if she failed to convince the Rebel leadership to let him remain as an ally, but he did have a contingency plan. It would simply undermine all the trust that he’d so carefully cultivated between Leia and himself, which was an outcome he would rather avoid.

He had nothing to gain by sabotaging the Rebels, however. Not presently, at least.

Vader’s stomach gave a loud growl, startling him out of his thoughts. It was only then that he realized just how hungry he was. He’d been subsisting off of ration paste since he’d left the suit, and didn’t know if he could even handle solid food. This was problematic, given that the Rebels were likely serving some of the local plants and animals in the mess to conserve rations. They didn’t have the reliable supply chain of the Empire to replenish such things on demand. But getting a checkup would require going to the medbay.

Ahsoka was currently in the medbay, with Rex by her side.

So, he would take the risk.

He reached out with his senses to find his way, and was struck by something else. There was somebody in the base who was strong with the Force. Untrained, or undertrained, but brimming with potential. A veritable beacon.

Leia occasionally felt that way, but it was always a momentary thing. And only ever when she was relatively relaxed. He presumed that she either had an innate talent for shielding, or else had been taught by one of her father’s associates. Perhaps even Ahsoka herself.

But this one wasn’t shielded at all. 

Following the call of that radiant potential led him, conveniently, to the mess.

The Force-wielder was a slight blond-haired boy, no older than twenty. He was surrounded by a small crowd, speaking animatedly despite his obvious fatigue. 

It had been a long time since Vader had bothered to try to be inconspicuous, but the method was simple enough. He grabbed a tray and utensils, then went up to the dispensary. A Twi’lek male was dishing out some kind of stew, accompanied by a green mush. It wasn’t much to look at, but it smelled appetizing enough.

“Lots of new faces today,” said the Twi’lek, in a thick Rylothi accent. “I advise you not to think too hard about the ingredients. It will taste much better that way.”

Vader gave him a nod, and proceeded to find himself a seat with a view of the boy. He took a small bite of the stew, chewing it slowly. The taste was bland, but inoffensive; exactly what Vader was hoping for.

“So that’s when we went to Alderaan to pass the plans onto Viceroy Organa,” the boy said to his audience. “But, when we got there, the planet was on serious Imperial lockdown. Artoo knew some landing codes, luckily, but I half expected them to shoot us down.” Artoo units were resourceful, indeed. One could always rely on droids. “And then it turned out that the Viceroy and Queen had been executed.” The boy let out a sigh. “So we were stuck in Aldera for a while, trying to track down a member of the Rebellion who could tell us about the base. Which isn’t easy when the entire city is swarming with Imps.”

“It wouldn’t have been easy even if the city hadn’t been swarming with Imps,” a man beside the boy groused. He was older, and his posture spoke of an affected cockiness. “It was like finding a needle in a trash compactor.”

“Anyway,” said the boy, shooting the older man a look of mild chagrin. “Ben had us go to a bunch of cantinas. He said that if there was a chance of finding Rebel agents, it would probably be there.”

The older one snorted. “Old man just wanted an excuse to get plastered.”

“He was right, though. It took us a few days, but we eventually found Cara here.” He gestured at a burly woman sitting across from him. “Of course, she didn’t trust us until we showed her the plans, but she eventually agreed to lead us to the base.”

“It definitely had nothin’ to do with her needing to get off-world to avoid local law enforcement,” said the older one.

“You’d know all about it, Solo,” Cara drawled, apparently unfazed.

The boy rubbed the back of his neck. “So yeah. Artoo didn’t have any codes that could help us leave, and we thought that getting past the blockade would be impossible. But Ben said he could figure it out if he stayed behind. I think he was planning to do one of those mind tricks, like he did when the Stormtroopers were looking for the droids.” Mind tricks? Another Jedi who’d survived the purge, perhaps. Or a charlatan posing as one. “But he promised that he’d find a way to follow us, eventually.” The boy’s tone and Force presence both indicated that he didn’t quite believe that this Ben would follow through on his promise. “And, well — here we are.”

“He also promised that I’d get paid,” said Solo, testily. 

“Oh, you will,” said a dark-haired young man with a mustache who was sitting next to the boy. “We just have other priorities at the moment.” He clapped the blond one on the shoulder. “You just saved the whole damn Galaxy, Luke.”

Luke ducked his head, smiling bashfully. “I helped, Biggs. That’s all.” He pushed himself to his feet, which is when Vader saw the lightsaber strapped to his hip. A very familiar lightsaber. “Is there somewhere I can rest?”

“I’ll show you to the dorms,” said Biggs.

Vader resisted the urge to storm after them, knowing that it would cause a scene. He took a few more bites of his food - just enough to quell the pit of hunger is his stomach - before he left the mess. Somebody yelled after him about cleaning up after himself, but he ignored them.

Once more, he used Luke’s presence to guide him, and wound up in a room with several sets of bunk-beds. The single-occupancy room he’d been provided when he’d first arrived must’ve been for those of higher rank. Thankfully, Luke was the only person there, sitting down on a bottom bunk to the left of the entrance. 

Vader approached him, and asked, “Where did you get that lightsaber?”

Luke looked up at him with a bemused expression. “Um, hi.”

It was ever-so-tempted to lift the boy up by his throat and demand that he not play such silly games, but Vader held himself back. “This is a matter of utmost importance,” he said. 

“Well,” said Luke, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re wondering. It was passed down to me, since it belonged to my father.” 

Vader’s blood went cold. “Your...father.”

Luke nodded. “Yeah. He was a Jedi knight named Anakin Skywalker.”

Vader’s first instinct was to dismiss the claim as utter nonsense, except that the words rang with truth in the Force.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked him, sounding genuinely concerned.

Vader slumped down beside Luke on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. 

Chapter Text

It never got any easier, revealing the truth of her relationship with Vader. Mon obviously hadn’t told the two Generals, out of respect for Leia’s privacy. And Leia appreciated that. But there was a part of her that wished Mon had gone ahead and done it, just so that Leia could be spared the exercise.

Draven looked ever more thoughtful as Leia explained the revelation, and the events surrounding it. Hera looked increasingly sympathetic. 

Once Leia was done, Draven said, “You utilized your leverage admirably, given the circumstances.”

Hera nodded her agreement. “Vader wasn’t the one who saved Alderaan, Leia. It was your quick thinking that saved your people.”

Leia resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. “I understand that bringing him here is problematic, to say the least. But he has information that we just can’t afford to waste.” She wanted to ask them if it bothered them, that she was related to a monster. She wanted to ask if they could ever fully trust her again. But she didn’t.

“You made the right call,” said Hera. “As much as I hate the prospect of working with him in any capacity, he’s privy to intelligence that could turn the tide of the war.”

“We can’t reveal his true identity, of course,” said Draven. “Morale is low enough as it is. I have no doubt that we’d risk a mutiny if it was widely known that he was here as anything but a prisoner.”

“And if we kept him here as a prisoner, there’s no way he’d cooperate,” said Hera. 

Leia shuddered internally at the thought of Vader’s presence becoming common knowledge. There would definitely be somebody angry enough to try and kill Vader if they discovered his true identity, and she didn’t know if she could trust him to hold back if they did. She wasn’t fond of lying to her own people, but she could see the necessity in this case. 

At least she knew that nobody in their right mind would guess that Vader was actually Vader just by looking at him.

Hera sighed. “And he can’t participate in any official operations. He should only act in the role of consultant.”

“He’s exceptionally skilled,” Mon pointed out.

“And completely volatile,” Hera countered. “Even if I thought he really was on our side — which I don’t — I still wouldn’t trust him not to be as careless with our people as he was with his own.”

Leia remembered what Vader had said about sacrifices on the battlefield, and how he’d veered completely off-script when they’d been on Mustafar. “Hera’s right,” she said. “He’s only here because he thinks it’s his one shot at winning me over to his side. He promised me that he wouldn’t use our soldiers as shields, or murder them for failure. But even if he held to that promise, I still think he would sacrifice them in other ways for the sake of his definition of victory. It wouldn’t even matter if he had formal command or not.” 

The Alliance made sacrifices, of course, but only when its members made the conscious choice to do so. Vader considered one’s mere participation in a military organization to be tacit consent to any and all eventualities — including certain death — regardless of the actual opinions of those involved. 

Mon sighed as well. “Yes, of course you’re correct.” She smiled ruefully. “I was being self-indulgent, imagining how cathartic it would be to use one of the Empire’s greatest weapons against them.”

Draven stroked his chin. “Do you suppose he’s telling the truth about the Emperor?”

“I think he is,” said Hera. “I’m no expert on the Force, but I was around Jedi for a long time. Based on what Kanan told me about the Dark Side and the Sith, his story checks out.”

Leia said, “I believe him as well.” She shifted in her seat. “Bear in mind, he doesn’t take issue with the Empire’s brutality. But his callousness is based in pragmatism — or, at least, his twisted understanding of pragmatism. All he cares about are results, and the results of some of the Empire’s policies have fallen short of his standards.”

“Yet he lacks the self-awareness to see how his own behavior fed into this alleged agenda,” Draven noted.

“He’s a walking mass of half-baked rationalizations and religious zealotry,” Leia said. “I think he’s convinced himself that everything he’s done, no matter how evil, was a necessary part of the Force’s grand cosmic plan.” She gave a small grimace. “He’s very fond of citing the 'will of the Force'.”

“I suppose it says something that he has such rationalizations in the first place,” said Draven.

“He’s not a psychopath,” Leia confirmed. “I can give him that much credit. Though that’s cold comfort for the loved ones of the countless people he’s murdered.” She looked at Hera. “Both directly and indirectly.”

Hera frowned. “Very indirectly, in the case of Kanan. If anything, Thrawn is the one to blame.”

“Yet he takes responsibility for it,” said Draven.

“‘Credit’ is probably the more accurate word,” said Hera, bitterly. Her expression darkened still further. “If he steps out of line…”

“We kill him,” Leia said. Something in her belly squirmed uncomfortably at the thought, but she resolutely ignored it. “I’ll do it myself, if I have to.”

The momentum of the discussion came to an abrupt slowdown, which prompted Mon to ask, “Do we have consensus regarding these conditions?”

Leia, Hera, and Draven all answered in the affirmative.

Mon stood. “In that case, you’re all dismissed for now. But you’ll need to be ready to mobilize at any time.” She looked at Leia. “I trust you will make our conditions plain to our guest.” 

“Of course,” Leia said, then made her way to the door.

Hera caught up with her there. “Will you join me in my quarters? Just for a few minutes, I promise.”

Leia was anxious to track down Vader, but didn’t have the heart to refuse such a simple request. 

When they arrived at Hera’s quarters, there was a teal-skinned Twi’lek woman awaiting them. The high-pitched sound of crying, and the crib beside her, made it clear that there was also a baby involved. “Thank goodness,” said the woman, when she caught sight of Hera. “He’s been getting fussy. Nothing I do seems to calm him.”

“No worries, Numa,” said Hera, walking over to the crib. “You’re off the hook for now. Zeb agreed to look after him during my next shift.”

“I will be going, then,” said Numa. She gave the baby one last stroke on his head before leaving the room.

Hera picked up the crying infant, kissed his forehead, and held him up against her shoulder, gently bouncing her body. He quieted almost immediately. “There we go,” she cooed. “See, Jacen? Mama’s here.”

Leia almost asked if it was safe to keep such a young infant on the base, but thought better of it. With a Jedi for a father and a Rebel general for a mother, this was probably the only safe place for him in the entire Galaxy.

“How old is he?” she asked instead.

Hera smiled gently. “He’s going on three months, now.”

That was insane. “And you’re already back on duty?” 

“The Death Star doesn’t really leave open the option for maternity leave,” Hera noted with dry humor.

“No,” Leia agreed, her throat tightening. “I guess it doesn’t.”

Jacen made a noise of discontent, which prompted Hera to reach for the bottle inside his crib. But when she pushed the silicone nozzle against his mouth, he screwed up his little face and jerked his head away. Hera chuckled, putting the bottle back in the crib. 

“It’s amazing how well they can communicate without any words,” said Hera, shifting his body so that he was now facing Leia fully, and slipping her arm beneath him in order to support his chest with her hand. Then, placing her other hand on his back to make sure he was fully secured, she began to rock him back and forth. “He’s already a little thrill-seeker. The one way he really takes after me.” Leia could see what Hera meant. His thin mop of hair had the hint of a green tint, and there was green pigmentation around his ears. But he definitely favored his father in terms of looks. “This is the closest thing he’ll get to flying for a while.” 

Jacen let out a delighted squeal, his mouth opening in a toothless smile. Leia felt something warm spreading inside her, along with a peculiar kind of melancholy.

“He’s beautiful,” Leia said, feeling suddenly as though she wanted to cry. She quashed the impulse ruthlessly.

“Do you want to hold him?”

Leia swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hera said, walking over and holding him out. The moment Leia reached out to take him, though, his smile fell away, and his bottom lip began to tremble.

Hera grimaced apologetically. “I guess he just really wants some mommy time.” 

Leia couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed. Hera resumed her rocking, more gently this time — an action intended to soothe rather than entertain.

Once Jacen’s eyelids began to droop, Hera said, “I asked you here because I feel like there’s something you need to hear.” She looked Leia straight in the eye. “Never forget that we don’t choose our parents. You are your own person. And if Bail were here, I know that he would have nothing but pride in that person.” 

“I’ll try my best to keep that in mind,” Leia said, averting her gaze as that awful lump returned to her throat. 

From the way Jacen’s eyes were closed, and how his chubby little limbs were flopping around, Leia could tell he’d fallen asleep. Moving very carefully, Hera lowered him back down into the crib, then covered him with a blanket. “Another thing that I think you should know,” said Hera, straightening. “One of the people who delivered the Death Star plans is named Luke Skywalker. He has a lightsaber.”

Leia felt a jolt of shock. “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”

“It could be. But...I’m pretty sure that Vader used to go by the name Skywalker. He’s older now, but he’s definitely the same person that I saw in one of Kanan’s old training holocrons. And if there’s one thing Kanan taught me, it’s that the Force works in mysterious and sometimes frightening ways.” 

Leia remembered something that Rex had said. “Didn’t the holocron belong to Ahsoka?”

Hera blinked in surprise. “Technically, yes — after Kanan gave it to her.” Her expression shuttered. “This must be hitting Ahsoka hardest of all. I accidentally walked in on her, once, when she was watching it. The look in her eyes...” Hera sighed. “You could tell that he meant the Galaxy to her.”

Leia’s mouth twisted. “Vader has much to answer for.”

Hera approached Leia and drew her in for a hug. It was a surprise, because they weren’t especially close, but Leia reciprocated. It felt good. Like, for just a moment, she was safe again.

When Hera pulled back, she said, “I won’t keep you any longer. May the Force be with you.” 

Leia needed to find this Luke Skywalker; it was something that she was absolutely certain of.

Of course, there was a chance that it meant nothing. Maybe Skywalker was a common name on whichever planet Vader came from. And even if Luke was a relative, it didn’t mean he was a close relative. Maybe there was an entire clan of Skywalkers somewhere out there in the Galaxy. 

The thought felt wrong, though. And she really wished it didn’t.

She started with the most obvious place: the mess. Without bothering to be discreet, she called out: “Is anyone here named Luke Skywalker?”

“He went to the dorms,” said Cara Dune, approaching Leia with her customary swagger. Leia had made it her business to know the names of all the Alderaanians in the Rebellion. “Darklighter knows which room he’s in.”

“Thank you, Cara,” said Leia, turning to leave.

Cara grabbed her by the wrist. Gently, but firmly. “Just so you know, things are heating up back home.” Leia looked back at her. Cara’s face was a mask of her usual affected nonchalance. “We’re gonna take revenge for what the Empire did the Queen and the Viceroy. Show them what us timid Alderaanians can really do when we’re pushed too far.”

The words ramped Leia’s nerves up to new heights. It was good that people were getting riled up, and it made sense. Breha and Bail had both been very popular with their people. But that kind of violent resentment could do more harm than good if it lacked direction.

And Leia knew that it would fall to her to provide that direction, even if she couldn’t take the throne in a formal capacity. The reality of it was daunting.

Right now, she could only deal with one thing at a time. “First we’ll make sure that the Empire can’t destroy any planet that becomes too unruly,” she said, extricating her wrist. 

Cara gave her an unnerving smirk. “Just point me at the Imperials I need to kill, Your Highness.”

Leia gave her a jerky nod, then left the mess. She was met with another obstacle in the corridor, however.

“Hey, you!” a male voice called out to her. Leia wanted nothing more than to ignore him, but his strides were much larger than hers. Soon enough, he was standing in front of her, blocking her path. He was handsome, in a scruffy kind of way. He looked like the sort of scoundrel who would dine and dash at a cheap cantina. “You’re the girl from the message.”

Leia frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Which message?”

“The one you recorded on that crazy Artoo unit,” said the man. He thumped himself on the chest. “Name’s Han Solo, and I was promised payment for delivering that damn thing to Alderaan. The thing is, I already did that — plus a bunch of extra stuff that almost got me killed — and I’m still waiting for my credits. I didn’t sign up to hang around a Rebel base!”

Leia had absolutely no patience for this. “And why do you think that I have anything to do with this?”

“Because you’re a princess, Princess.”

Leia scoffed at him. “Rest assured, Solo: you’ll receive your due. But your love of money is of secondary importance to the fate of the entire Galaxy, so you will have to be patient.” 

With that, she shoved him out of her way, paying no heed to his outraged sputtering.

Vader didn’t know how long he sat there, precisely. After the third time asking if Vader was alright, and then if Vader would move — only to be ignored — Luke had given up and relocated to another bed. He had fallen asleep soon after. 

It was not an act of trust, Vader knew, but a testament to the boy’s sheer exhaustion. His hand was curled protectively around the lightsaber at his hip in a way that confirmed he wasn’t entirely naive. Indeed, he probably hadn’t even intended to fall asleep.

It gave Vader the opportunity to study his face. The youthful, delicate features. 

Leia resembled their mother far more than her brother did. And while there was much of their grandmother in Leia, she manifested far more strongly in Luke.

Suddenly, he sensed Leia approaching — as if she’d been summoned by the thought. And, sure enough, his daughter strode into the room within moments, exuding a cocktail of volatile emotions into the Force.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. The words were not delivered delicately, and yet Luke didn’t so much as stir.

“The boy is strong in the Force,” Vader said. “He is also in possession of my old lightsaber.”

“And that’s why you’re watching him sleep?”

Vader lacked the energy to roll his eyes. “He claims that the saber belonged to his father.”

Leia stiffened. “Did it?”

“Yes,” Vader said, the word rasping uncomfortably from his throat.

Leia’s emotions reached a crescendo in the Force, even as her expression became uncharacteristically blank. “Follow me to my quarters,” she said. “We need to have a private discussion.” 

Chapter Text

“I just need a moment,” Leia said, once they arrived at her quarters, before heading to the lavatory. Vader made no comment, sitting down on the edge of her sleeping berth. It didn’t take a mere moment, however, and the outpouring of anguish in the Force made it clear that she wasn’t using the lavatory for its intended purpose. 

Padmé had never let Skywalker see her break down. Not until the very end, on Mustafar, when she’d been so desperate that she could no longer help herself. Yet he’d known when she did it, every single time, because it had felt like this. 

It hadn’t been a common occurrence. He could recall only a handful of times before the pregnancy. After Onaconda Farr had betrayed her, then again after he’d been murdered. After Mina Bonteri had been murdered. After Obi-Wan had faked his death. After Satine had been murdered. And finally, after she’d witnessed Skywalker nearly beat Rush Clovis to death in front of her. 

During the pregnancy, though, it had happened more times than during the entire rest of the war combined. Skywalker had sensed it when he’d been away in the Outer Rim Sieges, not realizing her condition. But all she’d let him see when he’d returned were beatific smiles and wistful talk of unattainable fantasies. 

She’d done practically nothing but lie to him during those last few months, while expecting him to be completely open with her. 

Vader let out a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to think about this. About her. Not now. How he’d failed to save her, then failed to bring her back, and then failed to recognize their child for who she truly was until the man who’d stolen and brainwashed her saw fit to reveal it. 

Vader had the sudden impulse to reach out with the Force and open the door to the lavatory. To make it so that Leia couldn’t hide from him the way that her mother had. But he didn’t give in to it, recognizing it for the weakness it was. 

Her eyes were red and puffy when she finally emerged a few minutes later.

“Is it really such a tragedy to find out that you have a twin brother?” Vader asked her, unable to keep the bitterness from coloring his tone. 

She looked affronted, as if she’d expected him to completely ignore the fact that she’d just had a minor nervous breakdown. “Not all of us can take life-altering revelations in stride by chalking them up to ‘the will of the Force’.”

He wasn’t going to correct her. She didn’t know about his embarrassing little episode in the dorm, and she didn’t need to. An omission wasn’t a lie. 

She sat down at the small table in the center of the room. “Chancellor Mothma and the Generals have agreed to let you stay, on the condition that you operate under a pseudonym, and that you only act as a consultant.”

Right to business, then. “That’s a complete waste of my talents,” Vader said, scoffing.

“It’s not your competence that’s in question, but your ethics.”

It was probably for the best, all things considered. He didn’t know if he could resist the temptation to actively sabotage any mission he was assigned to that didn’t involve the Death Star or the Emperor directly. Giving the Rebels information and advice was one thing; actively helping them follow through on their subterfuge in a manner that fell outside of his own interests was quite another.

Leia was far too observant not to notice such efforts. 

There was one matter he would not compromise on, however. “I will not hide the truth from Luke. He will receive the same courtesy that I show you.”

She looked as though she wanted to object, but thought better of it. “You’re right,” she said softly. “He deserves to know the truth. We’ll meet with him together and explain the situation, as well as the need to keep your true identity a secret.”

Vader had to fight the urge to insist they do so immediately. It was clear that the boy was in no fit state to have such a conversation, and he wanted to do things right with Luke. 

“So,” Leia continued, “in light of all these long-lost family members appearing out of nowhere, I feel the need to ask: do you have any other family? Parents? Siblings?”

“Just my mother,” he said tightly. “And she passed away many years ago.” 

Leia frowned. “No father?”

“None that I know of.”

Leia looked as though she was deciding whether or not to follow that line of questioning further. He could sense her curiosity, but also her trepidation. And something else. Something bordering on belligerence.

“You haven’t really been trying very hard to convince me to rule the Empire with you,” she noted.

Vader felt his brows creasing into a slight frown. “I did not think the time was right.” 

“Well, color me curious.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “Let’s do a thought experiment. You’ve successfully overthrown the Emperor and taken his place. What do you do with your new-found power?”

“I never said that I wanted to take the throne for myself, Leia.”

She had no doubt picked up on the implications of those words, yet she seemed entirely unsurprised. Perhaps Rex had been discussing the matter with her, after all. “But let’s say you did. If you had absolute power over the Galaxy, how would you rule it?”

It felt like a test, though he couldn’t say for certain what precisely she was testing. “To start with, I would crush the Rebellion.”

She huffed out a sound of disdain. “And then what?”

“I would set about destroying all the criminal elements that my former Master either tolerates or actively cooperates with: the Hutts, the Pykes, the Droid Gotra -- among others.”

“And then?”

At this point, with absolutely anyone else, Vader would have lost his patience. But he found himself wanting to indulge his daughter. He was curious to see where she was going with all of this. “I would reform the Imperial military so that the only means of admission and advancement was actual merit. I would give Stormtroopers decent equipment, and invest in expanding the navy.” 

“Why?”

“To keep order from the inside, and prepare against threats from the outside.”

That certainly caught Leia’s attention. “What threats from the outside?”

“There are rapacious powers in the Unknown Regions that will inevitably turn their gaze towards the rest of the Galaxy.” Vader preempted what he knew would be her next question by saying, “I saw the results of their efforts for myself not too long ago.”

Leia lapsed into momentary silence, processing this new information. It had likely never occurred to her that there could be genuine threats to peace and security besides the Empire she so despised. Organa had surely neglected her education in such matters, presenting the history of the Clone War in a deceptively ‘balanced’ manner. 

Her line of questioning took yet another swerve. “How many times have you deliberately targeted civilians in order to achieve some strategic aim?” Her tone was neutral despite the way her emotions roiled in the Force.

“I do not keep count of such things,” Vader said. He wouldn't bother to correct her use of the word "civilians", knowing she was using it broadly for all non-combatants. Including those who aided and abetted the enemy. “But the self-indulgent compassion of certain Rebel elements has often made it a useful tactic to draw them out of hiding.”

Her disgust swelled. “And how many times have you doled out collective punishment in order to set an example?”

“Often enough,” Vader said. 

She let out a harsh breath, crossing her arms over her chest in what she probably didn’t realize was a defensive gesture. “You understand that destroying a planet will only drive people to the Rebellion, but think that this kind of behavior is somehow different?” 

“It is different.”

“How?”

“You really wish to know?” Vader prompted, because he knew that she wouldn’t like the answer.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

Vader took a few moments to formulate his response. These were things he understood on an intuitive level from years of experience, but understanding wouldn’t come naturally to one such as Leia. She had been indoctrinated too thoroughly by her kidnappers. Moreover, he’d never actually articulated them to anyone before. He hadn’t needed to, when his orders were usually followed without question. 

Finally, he said, “In any given population, the number of law-abiding citizens usually surpasses the number of traitors. And the law-abiding citizens are usually quite happy to cooperate with weeding out the traitors -- provided that they think it’s actually within their power to do so, and understand the consequences for failing to do so. This is why demonstrations on a local level are effective. A small community can police itself reasonably well, and demonstrating a willingness to exact collective punishment on such a scale encourages this self-correction. 

“On a planetary scale, however, the logistics are completely different. What power does a farmer in a rural community have to stop traitors in the cities? Or on other continents? The connection between cause and effect is entirely lost, making the punishment appear to be an act of random, sadistic cruelty. The belief spreads that cooperation with the Empire is meaningless, since there is no reasonable or attainable way of avoiding retribution, leaving rebellion as the only logical choice.” 

Leia looked, briefly, as though she wanted to vomit, but mastered herself. “And I suppose you rationalize all this as being sacrifices for the greater good.”

“It’s not a rationalization if it’s true,” Vader noted dryly. 

“Let’s run another thought experiment,” Leia said, tone clipped with barely-restrained fury. “You live in a mining settlement on a planet that was integrated into the Empire a few years ago. At first, things seemed to be improving. Your family was freed from slavery. The Empire built infrastructure and provided a real administration to replace the primitive tyranny of a local warlord. But then, over time, things get even worse than they did before. Food prices are so high that the wages you earn are meaningless, but you’ll be executed if you stop working. The infrastructure that seemed like such a miracle is falling into disrepair. And the administration? Well, you have Stormtroopers coming by to use your young men and women as...entertainment. You have nobody to complain to, and -- even if you did -- such complaints would result in reprisals. 

“So now you’re faced with three choices: you can enlist in the Imperial Navy, leaving your family behind to fend for themselves; you can stay and cooperate, watching as your community, and all those you cherish, slowly die out from malnourishment and disease with the slim hope that things might one day improve; or you can fight -- which may result in death, but which could potentially improve things in the immediate future.” She looked him straight in the eye, challenging. “Which path would you choose, Lord Vader?” 

She framed it as a thought experiment, but Vader knew that it wasn’t a hypothetical scenario. Leia was probably recounting the circumstances that drove one or more of the Rebels on this very base to join the Alliance. “Since my hypothetical self would lack information about the broader state of the Galaxy, I would choose to fight,” Vader admitted. It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand the impulse. On the contrary: understanding the Rebels was the key to combating them efficiently. “But, as I said in the meeting, this is all part of the Emperor’s design. If I had full discretion, the incompetence and corruption that leads to such a predictable outcome would be punished far more harshly than even the Rebels.” He narrowed his eyes. “However, it’s disingenuous to act as though the people of worlds like Alderaan or Chandrila face similar hardships. For them, rebellion is a matter of pride, stubbornness, or idealism -- not desperation.”

“The Core systems prosper at the expense of the Outer Rim,” Leia said heatedly. “Those who benefit from the system have even more of a responsibility to oppose it.”

“Alternatively, they can use the official channels within the system to alleviate the suffering that they so abhor.” Pointedly, he added, “Instead of abusing them to steal equipment from the Empire.” Oh, he knew all about Leia’s little adventures with perfidy. It had been one of the main reasons why her capture had been so satisfying, before he knew her true identity. Nothing was quite so obnoxious as pampered royalty flaunting their privileges, then whining self-righteously in the Senate when it resulted in fewer humanitarian permits being issued. “How many thousands of sentients do you suppose suffered needlessly as a result of your collusion with the Rebels?” 

There was outrage, of course, but guilt as well. He had clearly struck a very raw nerve. “We both know you don’t give a damn about their suffering, so spare me the faux sanctimony.”

“I have come to accept that some degree of suffering is inevitable, and that allowing oneself to dwell upon it only results in paralysis. That doesn’t mean it’s an outcome I desire.”

Leia’s face twisted into a snarl. “If not for the Empire, they wouldn’t be suffering in the first place!”

Vader couldn’t help it. He laughed. “The only reason Palpatine managed to become Chancellor is because the Senate under his predecessor refused to prevent an illegal occupation of one of their own member worlds by a corporation. That’s setting aside the state of worlds that weren’t members of the Republic. Mandalore and Carnelion IV, reduced to ash by the own internal feuding. The countless worlds choked by the criminal tyranny of the Hutts. Trillions of sentients living in deprivation, slavery, and oppression, without an Empire in sight.”

“But the Empire made it worse,” Leia insisted. “Not even you can deny that. You admit yourself that the Emperor did it on purpose.”

“The Emperor is not a god, Leia. He can’t force people to play along with his schemes. He didn’t force the Separatists to secede; he didn’t make the Hutts into criminals or the Zygerrians into slavers. I reject your assertion that the negligence he allowed to flourish has made the Galaxy worse. At most, it’s allowed for a return to the sorry state it was in before the Empire brought order.” He snorted. “And the Rebels have done nothing but play into his hands. As a prominent member of one of the oldest and most respected royal houses in the Galaxy, you could’ve leveraged your privilege to improve the lives of countless people. But I suppose that was too mundane for your tastes. Not nearly enough glory or excitement.”

She stood up sharply, glaring down at him with utmost venom. “No amount of humanitarian aid is going to free species like the Wookiees from slavery! Or stop the Empire from ravaging worlds like they did with Lothal!” 

“Those species are indentured servants as a temporary punishment. They’ll become free citizens of the Empire once they’ve made up for the damage that they helped to cause.”

“The whole point is that they shouldn’t be enslaved at all!”

She was visibly shaking, now, and Vader once more sensed that thread of belligerence in the Force. It was only then that he realized what should have been all too obvious from the start.

She had been looking for an argument. 

But it wouldn’t accomplish what she wanted. Leia was very much his daughter, after all, and the catharsis she sought would not be found in petty words. 

“Is there some kind of gymnasium on this base?”

“Why would you ask about that now?” she demanded.

“Because you can yell and curse at me until you lose your voice, and it won’t make you feel any better.” He quirked his brows at her. “But sparring with me will, and you need to calm yourself before we speak with your brother.”

“That’s absurd,” Leia said, even as he sensed her curiosity spike.

“Why?” Vader asked.

“Because you’re Darth Vader, and I don’t even weigh 60 kilograms!” 

“Not Darth,” Vader said, automatically. “Just Vader.” At her look of angry bafflement, he explained, “Darth is the title used by Sith Lords, and I no longer count myself among them.”

“Whatever,” Leia said. “My point is that you’re a very large man with cybernetic enhancement. Sparring with you would be pointless.” She huffed. “Besides, we don’t have a gymnasium.”

Vader stood up himself. “Then we shall have to go outside. What’s your preferred weapon?”

“Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said?” Leia asked incredulously.

“Your words say one thing,” Vader said. “But your feelings say another.” He cocked his head to the side. “If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that you received at least some training in hand-to-hand combat. Not even Organa would leave the heir to the throne completely helpless. But you enjoyed that training just a little too much for his tastes, didn’t you?”

Her stricken expression told him that he was entirely correct.

Vader pressed on. “Organa could see just as plainly as I do that you are a warrior. But that is not the way of Alderaan, and he made you hide from who you truly are. Made you ashamed.” 

“He showed me a different way,” Leia said, all but confirming Vader’s words. “But he never once made me feel ashamed of who I am.”

“Then spar with me and prove it,” Vader said. 

Leia glowered at him, and he could sense just how badly she wanted to give in. His triumph was short-lived, however. She took in a deep breath, let it out, then said, “I have nothing to prove to you, Lord Vader. And the only thing I need before I speak to Luke Skywalker is rest.”

Skywalker. His son’s name was Luke Skywalker.

“Your quarters are the same as they were before,” Leia said. “I trust you remember how to reach them.”

Chapter Text

The carbon sickness wasn’t the worst of it. Not by a long shot.

Physically, Ahsoka already felt better. Her vision was still slightly blurred, but it was clearing up by the minute. She could feel her strength returning to her, little by little.

And yet, every gain in that strength was another step towards the inevitable.

She had gone to visit the Bendu before she’d departed for Malachor, and the Bendu had promised her change. Death. She had taken it to be literal at the time, but now she knew better. The Ahsoka Tano who’d existed before that confrontation with Vader, before her sojourn into that World Between Worlds, was no more. She would never be the same again.

Morai had not abandoned her. That had been a lie told to her by the voice of Malachor’s temple. The Dark Side. Ahsoka could feel Morai’s presence once again. Weaker than before her ordeal on Malachor, but unmistakable, and it was a testament to what she now knew lay ahead of her.

Her heart ached under the weight of her destiny.

Rex was there to escort her to her quarters once she’d been discharged from the infirmary, though she managed to walk on her own with only minimal wobbling. She could sense a strong presence in the Force, bright and inviting in contrast to the icy foreboding that was Vader. But she just didn’t have the strength to do anything about it yet. 

Once the door slid shut behind them, Ahsoka flung her arms around Rex, burying her face in his shoulder. He returned the embrace, stroking a soothing hand over her back lek. Ahsoka had to choke back the sudden, intense desire to weep.

She broke away only once she was certain that she had herself under control, walking over to the berth.

“So…” Rex said, with a strained-looking smile. “I guess that Maul was right.”

Rex was the only person she’d ever told of Maul’s warning about Anakin being groomed by Sidious. “Unfortunately,” Ahsoka confirmed. She lowered herself onto the edge of the berth as Rex leaned against the wall opposite her. The room was narrow enough that there was just under two meters of distance between them.

“Did you know, before you left for Malachor?” Rex didn’t sound angry, or even hurt. 

“Yes,” Ahsoka said. “I...didn’t know how to tell you.” 

He nodded. “I knew that something was off. Never would’a guessed it was this.” 

“I’m sorry, Rex. You deserved to know.” 

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” His eyes twinkled when he said ‘kid’, and Ahsoka felt immediately better. 

They lapsed into silence for a few moments. There was so much to say. Too much. Eventually, Ahsoka settled on, “I’m impressed by how you’re able to keep your cool around him. I can barely stand to be near him.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to be impressed about. I’m just too tired of it all to be angry.” He sighed. “I mean, yeah — he’s become everything we fought against in the war. Hell, he may even be worse than Dooku. But I’ve lost so many brothers, Ahsoka. To the war. To the Empire. And the General’s my brother, too, no matter what he says. So...I want to show him that there’s a better way. Not for his sake, but for mine. If I don’t try, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Ahsoka could feel his sadness in the Force. And, as much as she hated the prospect of shattering his hopes, it wasn’t fair to allow him to deceive himself. “There’s no coming back from the Dark Side, Rex.”

“Well, if there’s anybody who can do the impossible, it’s General Skywalker.” Rex gave her another weak smile. “Besides: he’s been trying to pick fights. I think he wants us to be angry with him.”

“The Sith thrive on conflict,” Ahsoka noted.

“I don’t know if he considers himself a Sith, anymore. Seems pretty keen on destroying ‘em, in fact.” 

Ahsoka grimaced. “That doesn’t bode well.”

Rex’s eyebrows shot up. “Pardon my ignorance, but...isn’t him rejecting the Sith a good thing?” 

With a sigh, Ahsoka said, “Maul became even more dangerous after he rejected the Sith and completely struck out on his own.” There was an old, familiar twist of guilt in the pit of her stomach. While she could recognize that her decision to release Maul from his confinement during the first wave of the Purge had probably been the single greatest factor in both her own and Rex’s survival, the consequences for it were still her responsibility. 

Rex’s expression suggested that he was thinking along similar lines.

Ahsoka forced herself to continue. “The Sith don’t own the Dark any more than the Jedi own the Light, but that doesn’t make the Dark any less of a corrupting influence. Ventress and Krell weren’t Sith, either. Nor were any of the Inquisitors.” 

“Point taken,” Rex said.

But Ahsoka wasn’t done. Rex needed to understand. “I don’t think the Vader that I met on Malachor actually cared enough about anything to do much outside of what he was told. All his little rebellions were easy to back out of. If he changed his mind about sparing me, he could’ve just left me frozen forever. And he may have had a hand in giving the Alliance a chance at destroying this ‘Death Star’, but even then — he could’ve decided to deal with any assault against it with his usual flair. But Leia forced him to commit, and I think it awakened something inside of him. Something very dangerous.”

“Ambition,” said Rex.

“Yes.” Of course Rex had noticed it as well. “You know as well as I do that Anakin never really had any serious long-term goals. He just had missions. And I think that carried over into Vader. But I sense a change in him. A...clarity, that wasn’t there before.”

“Vader wants to make the Princess into the Empress,” said Rex, by way of confirmation. “At least, I’m pretty damn sure that he does.” He rubbed the back of his head, a little too tense to be sheepish. “I may have said I’d help him do it.”

Ahsoka’s stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. She could figure out Rex’s reasoning easily enough. Having Leia on the throne was as good as a guarantee that all the abuses perpetrated by the Empire would be done away with as swiftly as possible. There was just one hiccup. “He won’t just want her to be Empress, Rex. He’ll want to turn her to the Dark Side first.” 

Rex’s face fell. “But — Leia’s his daughter.”

Her hands dug into the thin blanket covering the mattress. “Maul warned me of what was to come,” Ahsoka said softly. “And I didn’t tell the Council when I had the chance because I was convinced that he couldn’t be right — that Anakin would never succumb to the Dark Side.” She hastily wiped away the tear that managed to escape despite her best efforts to hold it back. “I won’t make that mistake again. The Dark Side is a parasite that manipulates its users into helping it spread, and Vader is no exception.”

Rex crossed his arms, frowning deeply.

“It’s not that I don’t want to have hope,” Ahsoka said, a little helplessly. “I just don’t want it to be false hope. Not after I lied to myself about Anakin for so long.” 

So sad, Jedi, without your pretty lies. 

Ahsoka shook her head to dispel the memory of that awful voice. In the Force, she reached out for Morai, and felt her there: a warm, reassuring anchor. A devastating reminder.

“I hear you, Ahsoka,” Rex said at last. “I do. And maybe I’m just an old fool, but I have to believe that there’s a chance.” His expression set into one of determination. “I won’t let him hurt the Princess.”

Ahsoka knew better than to underestimate the strength of Rex’s will, but she didn’t think she could stand to lose him. “He’ll kill you if you stand in his way.”

“Maybe,” said Rex, with the barest hint of a smile. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

When Luke woke up, he knew that he hadn’t slept nearly enough. But he also knew that he definitely wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.

The strange man had left at some point, and Luke was relieved to find that the lightsaber was still attached to his belt. It had been foolish, he now realized, to wear it like that. On Tatooine, that kind of carelessness would’ve gotten him in real trouble. He chalked the lapse up to his sheer exhaustion.

Maybe the man was some kind of...collector? Luke pushed himself upright, feeling ashamed. He shouldn’t assume the worst of people, especially on a Rebellion base. He was probably just somebody who admired the Jedi. 

Or maybe he’d known Luke’s father.

Actually, now that Luke was waking up a bit more, that last possibility seemed like the most likely one. Luke didn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but what else would explain how the man had reacted? The shopkeeper in Anchorhead had sometimes frozen up like that, when he heard a loud noise. He’d almost died a few years back in an attack by some of Jabba’s thugs, according to Uncle Owen.

Luke’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought of his aunt and uncle, but he stubbornly returned to puzzling over the strange man instead. Maybe he’d fought alongside Luke’s father and Ben in the Clone Wars. He looked a bit on the young side for it, but looks could be deceiving. Granted, on Tatooine, people usually looked older than they actually were. Like Ben, who Luke had learned was only 57. 

And here came the worry over Ben. Just great.

Frustrated at himself, Luke stood up from the bed and swallowed down a sudden surge of nausea. That was just from not getting enough rest, though, and it passed quickly. He walked over to the water dispenser in the far left corner of the dorm and poured himself some into a little disposable cup.

He didn’t think he’d ever get over just how easy it was to get water now that he was off of Tatooine. He took a sip; it had a clean, sweet taste that only came from high-quality filtration. He would’ve had to pay several months’ worth of allowance to afford even a few hundred milliliters of this back home. 

He refilled the cup several more times. Just because he could.

Luke was good with directions — you kinda had to be, if you grew up on a moisture farm out near the Wastes — so it was no trouble finding his way back to the hangar. It wasn’t hard to find the Falcon, either, being one of only three freighters on the entire base. Luke took notice of one of them in particular: a custom VCX-100, by his reckoning. A real beauty, especially in contrast to the shabby disrepair of the Falcon. He’d have to track down the owner at some point and pick their brain.

Speaking of disrepair: Chewie was still hard at work fixing up the ship when Luke ascended the gangplank. He gave Luke a howl, which Threepio promptly translated.

“He says that Master Solo is negotiating the terms of his payment and will be back when he is done.”

“Oh,” said Luke, an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat. “Thanks for telling me, Chewie.” 

Chewie let out another series of yowls. 

“He wishes to know if there is anything wrong, Master Luke.”

Luke shook his head. “I’m just tired, is all.”

So much for storing the lightsaber on the Falcon. For all Luke knew, Han would be on his merry way within hours. And then Luke would end up having to keep it with him, anyway.

He’d take Threepio and Artoo while he was at it, since it would spare him hassle down the line. They were his droids, after all.

He left Artoo with the rest of the astromechs, promising to return later to give him some proper maintenance. He didn’t see any other protocol droids around, but it would be a major inconvenience to have Threepio trailing him through the whole base.

He went up to one of the jumpsuited rebels, a middle-aged human man with dark skin and short, tightly-curled black hair.

The man looked up from the droid he was repairing when he noticed Luke’s presence. “What can I do for you, kid?” he said, giving Luke a once-over.

“I have this protocol droid,” Luke said, gesturing to Threepio.

“Hello,” said Threepio. “I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations.”

“And I was wondering if it was okay to leave him here, even though he’s not an astromech.”

The man shrugged. “Just power him down and stash him anywhere there’s room. We’re pretty flexible around here.” He gave Luke a wry half-smile. “Don’t have much choice in the matter.”

Luke couldn’t help but smile back. He held out his hand. “I’m Luke Skywalker, by the way.”

“Zef Zapro.” Zef stood up and straightened to his full height, which was a good ten centimetres taller than Luke. He took Luke’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “But everyone just calls me Zee.” After the handshake was done, he said, “You look like you could use some rest.”

“No kidding,” said Luke, turning to Threepio. He ignored the little pang of guilt as he powered the droid down. 

After thanking Zee, he set out to find the strange man who might have known his father.

Chapter Text

Vader was awoken by a stirring in the Force. 

Luke...was searching for him. 

Vader had agreed to talk with Luke for the first time with Leia present, but it seemed that Luke was not the sort to wait around for others to come to him. Truthfully, given Luke’s parentage, it had been foolish to ever assume otherwise.

In order to honor his word to Leia, Vader would need to avoid the boy for now.

However, the growling of his stomach informed him that he would not be able to do so by remaining in his quarters. After taking a quick shower and changing into a fresh set of clothing—a jumpsuit that was slightly too short at the ankles and wrists—Vader headed out to the mess hall.

The server on duty this time was a pale human boy, certainly no older than Leia, who kept ducking his gaze and blushing whenever he looked at Vader’s face. Luckily, he didn’t try to make any conversation, though it was clear he was trying to work up the nerve to do so. Vader left as soon as he received his food so that the boy didn’t get the chance.

When Vader’s appearance had been restored, he hadn’t factored in the obnoxious possibility that people might find him attractive again. He did not have the patience to put up with such nonsense. 

He ate the food as quickly as he could manage, before standing up and attempting to return to his quarters. However, inconveniently, the serving boy had managed to work up the spine to cut off his exit. 

“Um, excuse me, uh, sir,” the boy stammered out, “but we have a policy of diners cleaning up after themselves — to make things easier on the kitchen staff.”

Vader’s first impulse was to grab the boy by the neck and toss him aside, but he valiantly quashed it. An alternative strategy was called for. Perhaps there could be a use for the boy’s attraction, after all.

Plastering a smile on his face, Vader said, “What’s your name?”

The boy swallowed. “Um. Chase, sir. Chase Wilsorr.”

“Well, Chase, you have my apologies. However, I have an extremely pressing engagement. Could I trouble you to help me out this one time?”

Chase’s luminous blush told Vader that his approach was successful. “Um, okay. But only this once.”

Reminding himself that this state of affairs was only temporary, Vader widened his smile and said, “Thank you, Chase.”

Vader finally made his escape, only to be ambushed once again about halfway back to his quarters. This time by somebody far less easily dismissed.

Luke Skywalker stood before him, determination written on his face.

The boy’s hands clenched into fists, and he took in a deep, steadying breath. Like he was bracing himself. Then, without any introductions or preambles, he asked, “Did you know my father, Anakin Skywalker?”

Vader could only stare at him.

“I think you must have known him,” Luke continued, apparently only encouraged by Vader’s reaction, “because you get weird whenever I bring him up. Did you fight with him and Ben — Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Clone Wars?” 

Obi-Wan. Realization dawned on Vader like a lightsaber through the gut. 

Luke’s fists loosened, and his face twisted in sudden shame. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t know me and it’s obvious this isn’t easy for you. But...you’re the one who brought up the lightsaber in the first place.”

Vader cast his senses around the corridor, and was relieved to find that nobody was within earshot. At least, not yet. He forced himself to respond, “I can answer all your questions, but only in private.”

At once, Luke’s face lit up. “Thank you, mister!”

“Follow me,” Vader said.

Leia would just have to understand.

After arriving in Vader’s quarters, Luke took a look around and said, “So you have a room all to yourself? You must be pretty important!”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Vader said. “I suggest you take a seat.”

Luke sat down at the small square table. It was the only seat available, so Vader remained standing.

Vader was briefly struck by the absurdity of this whole situation. He’d never expected to have this kind of conversation even once, let alone twice. 

But there was nothing for it. Delaying matters would change nothing.

“I didn’t merely know your father, Luke,” Vader said. “I am your father.”

Now it was Luke’s turn to stare at Vader. “Um…” Luke blinked, a frown creasing his brows. “That’s not really...possible.”

It was almost humorous, in an ironic sort of way. Leia, who despised him, had accepted the revelation immediately. And yet Luke, whose feelings towards him were not at all hostile, did not. Sighing, Vader said, “If you search your feelings, you will know it to be true.”

Luke shook his head. “Except Ben said my father is dead, and Ben wouldn’t lie to me.”

Vader tamped down on a sudden burst of rage. “If this ‘Ben’ is Obi-Wan, then I can assure you that he would.” Vader took in a breath. Let it out. It was perhaps only logical that Luke would rather his father still be dead than Obi-Wan be proven a liar; the boy had never known his father, while Obi-Wan was obviously a tangible source of guidance and direction. “How did he say that your father died, precisely?”

“He said—” Luke’s voice cracked, and he stopped speaking to swallow thickly. “He said that my father was killed by Darth Vader.”

“Half-truths and hyperbole,” Vader sneered. “How very typical.”

Luke was glaring at him now, his emotions an utter mess. This was not going as Vader had hoped.

Vader pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache starting to make itself known as a pounding behind his eyes. How was he going to put this in a way that didn’t just cause more confusion? “I once went by the name Anakin Skywalker, but that was a long time ago. In that sense, Anakin Skywalker is dead.”

Luke’s face fell, his confusion and disappointment coming to the fore of the maelstrom. “So then why did he say that Darth Vader killed you?”

“Because, on that day, my identity as Anakin Skywalker came to an end, and I took on the name of Vader. From his point of view, therefore, Vader did indeed kill Anakin Skywalker.” From Vader’s, as well, but that wasn’t pertinent at the moment. “However, the fact remains that I am still your father. It is in that detail that you were deceived.”

Luke stared at him once more.

Vader cleared his throat. “I understand that this is...unexpected, but it is imperative that you keep this knowledge to yourself. Up until very recently, I wielded much authority within the Empire, for which I’ve gained some notoriety. The Alliance’s leadership have thus insisted that I use a false identity in order to preserve order within their ranks.” More softly, he said, “I’m telling you this because I believe you have the right to know the truth. The whole truth. And I am placing my trust in your discretion.”

Luke nodded slowly, visibly dazed.

“There’s something else, as well,” said Vader. 

“Of course there is,” Luke muttered.

Vader felt his own patience reaching its end, but held back his instinctive retort. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, after all, but Obi-Wan’s.

Carefully, Vader said, “I suppose that Obi-Wan failed to mention that you have a twin sister.”

Luke buried his face in his hands, and his body began to shake. It took a few seconds for Vader to realize that he was laughing. Vader withheld yet another biting remark, since it was clear through the Force that the laughter was born more of hysteria than amusement.

So Vader simply stood there as Luke worked it out his system.

It took a full minute for Luke to get himself under control. He straightened up and wiped tears from his eyes, taking in uneven, panting breaths. At last, he asked, “Is my sister here?”

“Yes,” Vader said. “I can take you to meet her.” Leia was probably still asleep, but he realized now that this wasn’t something that could wait. Not if he wished to salvage the situation.

“I…” Luke let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

Leia was already awake before she heard the chime at her door, but only barely.

She had an...odd feeling, which was only confirmed when she opened the door to find Vader and Luke Skywalker standing before her.

With the two of them side-by-side, the resemblance between them was particularly striking. At least, in their faces. Luke Skywalker had not inherited Vader’s height.

Padmé Amidala had been rather petite, Leia recalled.

With a deep sigh, she stepped aside and said, “Come in.”

She sat down at the table. Luke floundered for a few moments before settling on the berth. He couldn’t seem to keep his gaze off her, his eyes wide and expression dumbstruck. As though he didn’t quite believe she was real.

“Luke confronted me in the open,” Vader said, and Leia definitely wasn’t imagining the hint of defensiveness in his tone. “I thought it best to communicate certain details before interrupting your rest.” Vader leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “He knows my true identity, and that I am his father. He also knows that you are his sister.” 

Leia supposed she could see Vader’s reasoning. Her behavior earlier had not been the most...balanced. Getting some of the big revelations out of the way before coming to her may have indeed been for the best.

“Okay,” she said. 

Vader seemed to relax a fraction, as though he’d been expecting a more dramatic reaction.

To Luke, she said, “Are you alright?”

Luke blinked somewhat dazedly. “...Yeah,” he said. “It’s just that — you’re Princess Leia Organa! From the message!” It made sense that he'd seen the message, since Hera had mentioned him being the one to deliver the Death Star plans. “You’re the whole reason that I’m here!” He shook his head in disbelief. “And you’re actually my sister?”

“I am,” she said, certain of it. Some unnamable emotion twisted up inside of her belly. “That message was intended for General Kenobi. How in the Galaxy did you get a hold of Artoo?”

“Well, I lived on a moisture farm on Tatooine. Artoo and Threepio ended up being salvaged by Jawas, and my aunt and uncle just happened to be looking to buy some droids. Uncle Owen picked out Threepio, and Threepio convinced me to go for Artoo.” He smiled a little shakily. “It was just a normal, boring day, until Threepio told me that Artoo was looking for Obi-Wan Kenobi, who I figured was probably a relative of Ben’s — but it turned out that Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ben Kenobi were actually the same person! And then...” He trailed off, pain flashing in his eyes. “I guess...everything that Ben says about the Force is really true.” He frowned. “Does Ben know that you’re my sister? And, if he does, then why didn’t he tell me?”

“Because he does not trust in your judgment,” Vader answered, before Leia had the chance. “He believes that you are a foolish, impulsive child that is unable to handle the truth.’

Leia had to resist a flinch. For a moment, she’d become so absorbed in Luke’s presence that she’d almost forgotten that Vader was still there. She said, “If he does know—” and Leia suspected that he did “—then he probably didn’t tell you for the same reason we were separated in the first place.” She glanced darkly at Vader. “To protect us from the Empire.”

“...Right,” Luke said. “I guess that makes sense.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, though.

“Are your aunt and uncle safe?” she asked. She suspected she already knew the answer, but it was still important to make sure.

Sure enough, his face crumpled. “The Stormtroopers came looking for the droids.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “They’re gone.”

With genuine regret, Leia said, “That’s awful. I’m so sorry to hear that, Luke.” 

Vader remained resolutely silent. 

Luke, at least, didn’t seem to notice. “I thought for sure I didn’t have any family left.” Tears welled up in his eyes, his bottom lip trembling. “And now…”

Leia’s heart ached for him. As loathe as she was to show vulnerability in front of Vader, she couldn’t just watch a display like this and not do anything about it. Even if Luke hadn’t been her long-lost brother. She stood up and went to the berth, sitting beside Luke, then pulled him into a hug. 

Luke didn’t hesitate for a moment to bury his face in her shoulder, his tears dampening the fabric of her jumpsuit. She wondered at his ability to show his emotions so freely with someone who was essentially a stranger. Though...she also couldn’t deny that she felt a connection. As if she’d been yearning for something all her life, and had only realized it when the yearning was finally quelled. 

She couldn't tell him that everything was going to be alright — not when she could barely believe it herself. But there was at least one thing that was undeniably true.

“You’re not alone,” she told him softly.

Chapter Text

As Vader took in the emotional scene before him, he realized quickly that he was extraneous.

He could see now why Obi-Wan had kept Luke and Leia apart. Together, they shone more brightly in the Force. A focal point around which destiny itself might bend. Had the two of them been raised together, there was no conceivable way they could’ve gone undetected. They would’ve become subjects of Project Harvester, and been trained as Inquisitors.

Vader may have even been the one sent to retrieve them, unaware of their true origins. For a moment, he was almost glad that he didn’t know what they’d looked like as infants. Otherwise, he might be able to conjure up a mental image of handing them over to the nursing droid.

He vowed once again to make Obi-Wan pay for his deception. That such a thing had even been a possibility was utterly intolerable.

He made to leave Leia’s quarters, seeing no need to interrupt Luke and Leia with an announcement. But just as he reached the door, Luke asked, “You’re going?”

Vader turned back to face them and said, “I require rest.” It was the truth; his sleep had been interrupted by Luke. “I am certain that you and your sister have much to discuss.”

Leia caught his eye as she pulled back from the embrace. Her gaze was questioning. Challenging.

Did Vader trust her to be alone with Luke? Think of all the ways that she could turn Luke against him!

Vader gave her a wry smile. Leia could be exceptionally vicious with her tongue, it was true, but her compassion for the downtrodden and the innocent was boundless. Luke was plainly the latter. She wouldn’t worsen Luke’s distress by recounting a detailed and one-sided litany of every one of Vader’s sins.

She inclined her head in a subtle nod, then turned her attention back to Luke.

“Well…alright,” Luke said.

Alas, sleep did not come easily. Vader’s mind was racing far too much for his body to relax.

It was clear from Luke’s demeanor that he’d only recently begun his Jedi training with Obi-Wan. And that meant that Luke was…pliable, in a way that Leia was not.

Leia, after all, had been raised to be Breha Organa’s successor—indoctrinated into the pacifist ideology of the Alderaanian royal line. But Luke? Luke had been raised by simple moisture farmers. Vader knew the way that people on Tatooine thought. The farming folk out in the desert didn’t care one tiny bit about politics or ethics; what mattered to them was survival. Family.

And unlike Leia, who had never been told of her true parentage as a child, Luke had clearly grown up longing for his father.

Thus, Luke would no doubt prove to be far more receptive to Vader’s teaching. Obi-Wan's failure was Vader's opportunity. 

But Vader couldn’t simply discard Leia, either. Her training as a senator and future queen made convincing her more of a challenge, yet it was also what made her so essential to Vader’s plans. Vader wasn’t suited to being a ruler. In all likelihood, Luke wasn’t either.

No, the throne of Vader’s future Empire belonged to Leia, just as it should’ve belonged to Padmé.

The Rule of Two was a Sith contrivance; Vader was not beholden to it any longer.

Vader could see the path forward clearly, now. The bond between the twins was strong—something deep and primordial, forged within the womb of their mother. Indeed, they’d been so tightly intertwined that, during the pregnancy, Vader had not been able to sense them as separate beings at all. And now that this bond had been rekindled, it was unlikely that his children would ever tolerate true separation again.

Where one went, the other would surely follow.

Vader’s lips twitched upward in triumph.

Luke was the key to everything.

Leia watched Luke watch Vader leave her quarters, noting the confusion and hurt in his eyes, even though his tears had dried.

“He didn’t seem very happy to meet me,” Luke said.

“How much did he tell you?” she asked.

Luke turned back to her. “Is he really Darth Vader?”

“He is. Which is why you shouldn’t take it to heart.” The last thing Leia wanted to do was even vaguely defend Vader’s behavior, but she really couldn’t bear to see Luke in such pain. “How much do you know about Darth Vader?” Though Vader was quite the notorious figure among the elites of the Core, it stood to reason that a farmer from the Outer Rim wouldn’t have the same familiarity.

“I know that he betrayed the Jedi,” Luke said. “And that he’s more machine than man. Though, he really doesn’t look it…”

So, it was like she thought. She stood up to retrieve her datapad from the table, then returned and navigated to an image of Vader. “This is what he looked like a few weeks ago,” she said.

Luke frowned. “Is that a life-support suit?”

Leia nodded. “He spent the last twenty years in that thing, completely cut off from all normal social contact. His only place of permanent residence was a creepy castle on a planet covered in lava.” She set the pad aside. “No friends, no family. Just serving the Empire, day in and day out. Honestly, I don’t think he remembers how to be happy. It’s not because there’s anything the matter with you.”

“So…you also didn’t know him?”

Well, she had known him, but not in the way that Luke clearly meant. “I only found out that he was my biological father very recently, after the father who raised me revealed the truth.”

Luke’s frown deepened. “You mean, Viceroy Bail Organa?”

“Yes.”

His eyes were suddenly full of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I was on Alderaan because of your message, and…” He swallowed. No doubt, the Empire had broadcast the execution publicly to set an example, so of course Luke knew about it. “The Viceroy and the Queen seemed like really good people. Everybody was so angry, after what happened.”

She smiled. “I’m okay. After all…” She took his hand in her own and squeezed it. “I’m not alone, either.”

Luke smiled back, his blue eyes lighting up like the Alderaanian sky on a clear day.

It was then that Leia knew, with a laser-focused clarity: she had to protect this boy at all costs.

They spent the next several hours exchanging anecdotes about their childhoods. Leia told Luke about growing up in the Aldera palace, with her fussing aunts and loving but often exasperated parents. Leia learned that Luke’s upbringing had been simple, but comfortable. Predictable. A stern but caring uncle; a warm and supportive aunt. Besides the moisture farming, his aunt had run a side-business selling cheese. The best cheese on Tatooine, Luke insisted.

“To tell you the truth, Leia…I didn’t really appreciate just how good I had it. I was so bored! As soon as I was old enough, all I wanted to do was join the Imperial Academy and get off-world.”

“It was the same for me,” Leia said. “I used to go out into the woods to watch the ships leaving Aldera Space Port, speculating about where they were going and why, and fantasizing about joining them. I never wanted for anything, and my parents were wonderful, but I still felt so…restless.”

“Maybe…” Luke’s eyes went distant. “Maybe, if we both felt that way, it was because of the Force. Maybe, on some level, we knew that somebody important was out there, and that we had to find them.”

“Maybe,” Leia conceded. “But I was also a spoiled brat.”

Luke grinned at her. “Isn’t that just part of what makes a princess a princess?”

Leia punched him playfully on his upper arm. “What would you know about it, farmboy?”

As she drew her hand back, a thought suddenly occurred to her. She’d been so caught up in all the craziness that she’d failed to ask about something very important. “By the way, where’s Artoo?”

Luke looked a little sheepish. “I left him and Threepio in the hanger with Zee.”

Leia’s heart swelled with relief. “Threepio too?” She sprung to her feet. “I need to go thank them!”

While passing by an extremely run-down Corellian freighter on the way to the droids, Leia and Luke ran into Han Solo.

“Heya, kid!” Solo said to Luke, with something approaching genuine warmth.

Right. She hadn’t put two and two together until now, but Han Solo had seen her message as well. That meant that he and Luke knew each other.

“Han,” Luke said, smiling, “this is Princess Leia. Leia—this is Han Solo. We used his ship to get to Alderaan!”

“This ship?” Leia asked, giving the freighter a disdainful once-over. “You're braver than I thought."

“She’s got it where it counts, Princess,” Han said, voice full of smarm.

Luke blinked. “Do you two already know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” Leia said. It just figured that Solo was probably a lowlife in the employ of the Hutts who’d taken advantage of Luke. “Have you gotten your precious money yet, Solo?”

Luke shot Solo a look.

Solo’s expression softened just a bit. “The princess and I got off on the wrong foot.” With a half-smile, he held out his hand and said, “Can you really blame a guy for being frustrated after just barely escaping an Imperial lockdown?”

She could, actually. Still, he had rendered an invaluable service to the Alliance, regardless of his shady motives. And she hadn’t exactly been in the best mood back then, either. She took his hand, shaking it. “Thank you for help, Han Solo. I’ll see what I can do about getting you paid.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Han said, half-smile widening slightly.

It annoyed her. In fact, everything about this man was incredibly aggravating. But it was obvious that Luke considered him to be a friend, so Leia would hold her tongue.

After she released Solo’s hand, Luke said, “I need to speak with Han, actually. Do you mind going ahead without me?”

“Not at all,” Leia said.

Chapter Text

“You don’t think a princess is a bit out of your league, kid?”

Luke rolled his eyes, having predicted ahead of time that Han might say something like this. “It isn’t like that.” Obviously, Luke had thought that Leia was beautiful when he first saw her in the message. He still thought she was beautiful! But…now it was different.

Han smirked. “Oh yeah? Then what is it like?”

Leia hadn’t said anything about keeping the true nature of their connection a secret, but Luke had a strong feeling that he should. It had to be a big deal for royalty to be adopted, right? “She was just thanking me for delivering Artoo.”

“Whatever you say, kid.”

Luke sighed. Was Han trying to distract him on purpose? “Han…are you really leaving?”

Han shrugged. “There’s no room for me in a place like this.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Luke said. “I know you’re not the scoundrel you pretend to be.”

Han snorted.

Luke pressed on. “You saw what the Empire was doing on Alderaan. I know it made you just as angry as it made me.” His voice became softer. “Growing up on Tatooine, I always took for granted that, even though Jabba was a monster, his goons would leave you alone so long as you minded your own business. But the Empire isn’t like that. It’s like…they hurt people just for the sake of hurting them.”

“I didn’t need Alderaan to show me that, Luke,” Han said, his expression becoming serious. “As for Jabba…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve got debts to pay.”

So…that was the real reason. Luke’s stomach twisted. If it was only about convincing Han to stay in the Rebellion, he was sure that he could do it. But convincing Han to avoid a debt to Jabba the Hutt?

With a tight throat, Luke said, “Will you at least say goodbye before you go?”

He saw something pass over Han’s eyes—an impulse to be callous, maybe. To say ‘I can’t make any promises’. But instead, Han clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Count on it, kid.”

When Leia arrived at the astromech hub, Artoo appeared to be involved in a spirited argument with another droid that she recognized as Chopper—Hera's terror of an astromech.

Zee was watching it happen with raised eyebrows.

“You aren’t going to stop them?” Leia asked, coming up beside him.

“That’ll just get me shocked for no good reason,” Zee replied. “Better to let them get it out of their systems.”

Upon hearing her voice, Artoo’s dome swiveled toward her, and he let out an excited series of beeps. The other astromech took the opportunity to deliver a shock. Enraged, Artoo backed up a few meters before charging forward to ram into Chopper. Artoo’s attack proved successful; Chopper overbalanced and fell on his back, flailing his arms in impotent rage while letting out several low, angry whoops. Undamaged, but humiliated.

Artoo approached Leia with an air of smug triumph about him.

Leia placed her hand on his cool dome. “Thank you for everything,” she said. More sternly: “You should try to get along with Chopper.”

He beeped affectionately in response, wholly unrepentant.

“Where’s Threepio?” she asked.

“You mean the protocol droid?” Zee pointed to the far side of the hub, and she spotted Threepio stashed and deactivated. “New kid left him there.”

Leia let out a sigh of disapproval.

Luke rejoined her as she passed the freighter once again, Artoo and Threepio in tow. Luke looked upset and extremely tired. She’d give him space before asking him what was wrong.

“You should get some rest,” she told him. “I wanted to debrief Artoo and Threepio about their journey here. If I need any blanks filled in, I can ask you about them later.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Luke said. “It’s been…a lot.”

“No kidding,” Leia said.

Luke gave her a weak smile. “Well, I’ll see you later, then.” He paused for a moment, as if debating something with himself, then pulled her into a hug.

She arrived back in her quarters and settled in to get the full scoop from the droids. Threepio naturally did most of the talking, but Artoo supplemented certain anecdotes with archival footage from his memory banks.

The first time she saw Ben, her breath caught in her throat. At ten, she’d thought he looked old. But now, he really looked like a grandfather.

“Is Ben alright?” she asked Threepio.

“Master Kenobi stayed behind to provide us with safe passage through the blockade,” Threepio answered. “Oh, I do hope that he’s unharmed!”

Leia gazed at Ben’s hologram for a while longer, until her comm beeped.

She opened the channel, and General Dodonna’s voice came through. “We’ve finished decrypting and analyzing the Death Star plans,” he said. “Would you please join us, Princess Leia? And bring along your…companion.”

“Of course, General.”

Knowing that Vader was probably still asleep, Leia fixed him a cup of instant caf—this time the way that she liked it, with sucrose syrup and creamer. She walked down the hall to his quarters and requested access.

After a minute or so, the door slid open, revealing a bleary-eyed, disheveled Vader wearing loose, comfortable sleeping clothes. For the first time, Leia thought he really looked his age.

By now, Leia had somewhat gotten used to the idea of Vader being an actual human man with visible facial expressions, but this vision of mundane vulnerability—or, at least, the illusion of it—was still unsettling. It reminded her of how her father used to look when they’d eaten breakfast together as a family: that brief, precious time before her parents would become “presentable” for their unceasing daily duties. When it was only the three of them, together.

“We’ve been summoned by General Dodonna to discuss the Death Star plans,” she told him. She held out the mug to him. “I made you some caf.” Dryly, she added, “It looks like you need it.”

He took the mug. “Thank you,” he said, voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

Leia’s chest tightened oddly. Had Vader ever said those words to her before? Ever expressed a sentiment even approaching those words?

The door slid shut as Vader stepped back, presumably to make himself presentable. Leia stepped to the side, leaned against the wall with crossed arms, and waited.

By the time that Leia and Vader were seated in the War Room, Vader was very much back to his usual self, exuding authority and confidence. Leia found that she much preferred it that way.

The other generals and Mon were also present as General Dodonna explained that the Death Star’s vulnerability was a small, unshielded exhaust port that could be reached with an X-wing.

“The only problem,” General Dodonna said, “is that we don’t know the Death Star’s location. It left the Alderaan system not long after its weapons were disabled.”

Leia sighed. Not disabling the hyperdrive had been an oversight, but she knew they wouldn’t have had the time for it.

General Dodonna turned cold, suspicious eyes on Vader. “Do you know where it is?”

“There are several likely locations,” Vader cooly answered. “But to know for certain, I would need to have access to the Imperial communication network.”

Dodonna exchanged a wordless look with Mon, before saying, “And where is the nearest Imperial communications hub?”

“Phindar,” said Vader.

“Phindar is heavily fortified,” Draven said. “Such an operation would require…infiltration.”

“Yes.” Vader’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I will go myself.”

“I thought we'd already agreed,” Mon cut in, “that you are only to act as a consultant.”

“You fear that I will endanger others, but that is no concern if I undertake the mission alone. It’s the most efficient solution.” A small smirk. “I am expendable, after all.”

Leia knew that Vader was right, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that he could accomplish it alone. “I will accompany him,” she said. She could tell that the others were primed to object, so she added quickly, “I need to see this through to the end, or else I won’t be able to live with myself.” And even more importantly, Vader was her responsibility. Somebody needed to be there to make sure he stayed on-mission.

After a moment of tense silence, Hera caught Leia’s gaze. “Are you certain?”

“I am,” Leia said.

“You still don’t trust me,” Vader noted as they left the briefing.

“I don’t,” she confirmed bluntly. She checked to make sure that they were alone, then stopped in place and turned to him. “Say, what are your plans for Luke, exactly?”

Vader’s gaze bored into hers. “This is a conversation best had in private, Leia.”

“You’re absolutely right,” she said, setting a brisk pace to Vader’s quarters. On the way, she noticed that several passers-by were taking note of both her and Vader. Given the amount of time they’d been seen together, it was inevitable that people would start asking questions. And spreading rumors.

But that topic would have to wait, for now. When they were safely alone, Leia crossed her arms over her chest and gave Vader an expectant glare.

“I wish to convince Luke to join me,” Vader said plainly.

“And turn him to the Dark Side?”

“Naturally.”

Leia let out a breath through her nose. “His aunt and uncle were murdered by the Stormtroopers that you sent to look for the droids,” she said. “Were they acting on your orders?”

“I do not micromanage my men. They know the cost of failure, and they act accordingly.” His eyes narrowed. “Is this a threat, Leia? If so, it seems that I’ve misjudged you.”

She gave him an incredulous look. He really thought that Leia was threatening to poison Luke against him? As if that wouldn't end up hurting Luke the most, in the end. “Is that really the first thing that comes to mind for you?”

“I fail to see what else you could mean.”

Of course he did. She took in a deep breath to try and calm herself. “Luke lost the two people he loved most in the world because of the actions of your men. The least you can do is try to be a father to him, instead of treating him like a tool.” She resolutely ignored the sudden lump in her throat. “You owe it to him to be his family.”

Vader’s face went very blank. “It’s too late for that, now.”

Leia’s hands curled into fists. “Ahsoka told me that the Dark Side burns away all the good in a person, leaving only selfishness behind.” She began walking towards the door. “I can see that she was right.”

Vader caught her wrist, stopping her in place. The grip wasn’t hard, but it was firm. The temperature in the room dropped. “Selfishness?” Vader said, his voice low and dangerous. “You have no idea what I have sacrificed for the sake of bringing balance to this Galaxy. For the sake of peace and order.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” She turned to look his dead in the eyes. Right now, she knew that she had to choose her words carefully. As tempting as it was to taunt Vader about his objective and catastrophic failure to bring about any of those things, it would not accomplish anything of value. “But why can’t you protect Luke from having to make those same kinds of sacrifices? Why is it so essential that he walks the same path as you?”

Vader released her wrist, his mouth a grim line. “Because it is our destiny, and fighting against it is worse than futile.”

They stayed like that for several minutes, gazes locked in a tense, silent battle. Vader was the first to relent, though Leia knew it wasn’t a surrender. “Time is of the essence,” he said, as the frigid air began to warm again. “We should come up with a plan and leave as soon as possible.”

Unfortunately, he was right; leaving was not really an option. She sat down by the table and said, “Let’s get to it, then.”

Chapter Text

After they’d agreed on a plan of action, Leia pronounced that they’d have twelve hours to prepare. Vader didn’t object, knowing that he’d need the time to meditate and gather his thoughts.

About four hours later, he returned to the mess hall for a meal. The server was an older human woman who took no special notice of him at all.

Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye as he sat down to eat, and he descretely focused in on it.

Ah yes—that face, and the distinctive style of beard, belonged to none other than the former Agent Kallus. He was presently eating and conversing with a Lasat, who Vader also recognized as the one who’d once been allied with Kanan Jarrus. If Vader ever knew his name, he couldn’t recall it any longer.

Imperial defectors generally fell into one of three categories: those driven by ideology, those driven by sentiment, and those driven by revenge. Vader had never given much thought as to why Kallus, who by all accounts had been a sincere Imperial loyalist with a bright career ahead of him, might defect to the Alliance. Vader had sensed no conflict in him when they’d worked together on Lothal.

But, observing Kallus now, the answer became obvious.

Kallus had been driven by sentiment. In particular, the kind of infatuation that could drive a man to give up everything. One could see it plainly from the softness and affection in Kallus’ eyes when he looked at the Lasat.

Vader turned his attention back to his food, tucking this knowledge away. It could prove useful in the future.

Luke was waiting outside of Vader’s quarters when he returned. “Hey,” Luke said. “I was wondering if we could talk again.”

The boy was bold, if nothing else. Vader could appreciate that. “Of course,” he said, opening the door.

Almost the moment the door slid shut behind them, Luke began to speak again. “Leia explained a lot of things to me. About how you were in that life support suit, and how you were serving the Empire. There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”

Just as Vader had predicted: Leia had attempted to comfort Luke, rather than indoctrinate him. “Yes?” Vader asked.

Luke swallowed. “Why did you never come to find me?”

Vader was momentarily caught off-guard by the question, since the answer was so obvious. “I thought you had died. And if you had not been hidden from me, I would have come to find you immediately.”

“But I wasn’t hidden,” Luke said softly.

Vader had to tamp down on the sudden burst of outrage. “Yes you were,” he countered, as calmly as he could manage.

“No, I wasn’t,” Luke said, a hint of tetchiness in his tone. “I was living with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, in the place where Grandma Shmi is buried.” His mouth twisted. “I practically never left.”

Vader felt briefly as though he’d been punched in the gut. So Luke’s “aunt” and “uncle” were Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun? All this time, Luke had been living on that homestead?

Luke continued, “You grew up on Tatooine, so you must know about the mourning rites. Uncle Owen let Grandma Shmi’s grave return to the desert because he didn’t feel as though he could take the rites over in your place. But you were still alive the whole time.” Luke’s shoulders were tense, his mouth turned downward. Vader could feel his sadness and disappointment radiating through the Force. “All you had to do was come and perform your duty to Grandma Shmi once, and you would’ve found me. I wasn’t hidden.”

Vader realized with a lurch that Luke was right. Obi-Wan had not hidden Luke from Vader at all. He’d placed Luke with the closest thing to relatives that Skywalker had.

This had not been done consciously, Vader knew. Based on the shock and horror that Vader had sensed a decade previously through the Force, Obi-Wan had believed Vader to be dead after their confrontation on Mustafar. Rather, it had been the Force itself, working through Obi-Wan, that had set the stage thus.

A test: so elegant, so obvious. And one that Vader had completely and utterly failed. Leia had indeed been hidden from him. But Luke? Luke had been practically waiting for Vader to find.

All he’d needed to do was acknowledge his past self…by honoring his mother.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said, his show of bitterness suddenly receding. “I know I shouldn’t be looking a gift droid in the motivator. But...I just want to understand.”

Every response that came immediately to mind were blatant lies and excuses.

“It was weakness,” Vader said at last. “There is nothing more to understand.”

What good would making excuses do, anyway? What use was there in protecting Luke’s fantasies that his long-lost father was somebody noble and brave? Leia really had been right to call Vader a coward.

Luke had not been hidden. Vader hadn’t come for him.

This was the will of the Force. 

“But,” Vader continued, “now that I know of you and your sister, I see the necessity of overcoming that weakness. I will not fail you again, Luke.”

Vader could not be the kind of father that Leia thought he owed the boy, but he could make Luke strong.

Luke bit his bottom lip, then said, “Can I call you ‘father’ when we’re alone?”

“If you wish,” Vader said.

That earned him a tentative but genuine smile.

Vader considered how to proceed. “Your sister and I will be undertaking a mission together shortly,” he said.

Luke’s eyes went wide in sudden eagerness. “What kind of mission? Can I come too?”

“I do not believe that would be wise. It is an infiltration mission, where every additional variable decreases the likelihood of success.”

“Oh,” Luke said, crestfallen.

“Your training with Obi-Wan was incomplete,” Vader stated. “While we are gone, I would like you to seek out Ahsoka Tano for additional training.”

At once, Luke perked up again. “Who’s Ahsoka Tano?”

“She was once my apprentice.”

Ahsoka would no doubt fill Luke’s head with all kinds of nonsense, just like Obi-Wan had. But just like Leia, she was too compassionate to intentionally cause Luke pain. She would do no more damage than Obi-Wan had already done.

Moreover, Vader at least knew that Ahsoka was competent and powerful. For now, she was as close as Vader could get to training Luke himself.

This time, Luke’s smile was wide and warm. “Thank you, father. I’ll find her right away!”

Luke recognized that he’d maybe pushed a little too much with his father, but the question had been plaguing him ever since he’d woken up from his deep, well-earned sleep. His dreams had been filled with the fantasies he’d spun in his childhood, about his father still being alive and coming to spirit him away on adventures across the Galaxy. And when he was awake again, it hit him: his father could’ve come to get him at any time.

Now that he’d gotten his answer, though, he kind of wished he hadn’t.

Well, at least he’d get to meet his father’s apprentice!

Tracking down this Ahsoka Tano wasn’t hard at all. Biggs told him, “Oh, yeah, she’s kind of a celebrity around here. I don’t know where she is, exactly, but she’s a Togruta with orange skin—impossible to miss.”

After that, it was a piece of cake to find Ahsoka Tano in the hanger, talking to a very pretty green-skinned Twi’lek woman in front of the custom VCX-100 light freighter that he'd noticed previously. From the back, Luke could see her third lek and horns—the distinctive characteristic of the Togruta. On Tatooine, they were much rarer than Twi’leks, but Luke had seen one or two when he’d gone into Anchorhead.

She turned before he even said anything, revealing bright blue eyes and white markings on her face. She was wearing a black top and trousers, both rather tight against her body.

She was the most beautiful woman that Luke had ever seen.

“Hello,” Ahsoka said in an even tone. “You must be Luke Skywalker.”

Luke’s mouth was very dry, for some reason. “H-hi,” he said, heat rising to his cheeks. “Um…” What was he supposed to say? He was supposed to keep Vader’s identity a secret.

Ahsoka took pity on him. “Take a walk with me,” she told him. To the Twi’lek woman, she said, “We’ll pick this up another time, Hera.”

Hera was gazing at Luke very intently. “The Force really does work in mysterious ways,” she said.

Ahsoka led him to one of the turbolifts on the far side of the hanger, which, after a brief journey upward, opened to reveal the jungle outside. Turning back for a moment, Luke took in the ruins of the pyramid which served as the exterior of the base.

There was a high-pitched cry from above, and Luke looked up to find some kind of avian creature flying overhead. He didn’t know why, but he got the feeling that this was no ordinary animal.

“I see you’ve noticed Morai,” Ahsoka said, holding out her arm. As if responding to its name, Morai descended to perch there. “She is my companion.”

“There’s something special about her,” Luke said, feeling as though Morai was gazing directly into his eyes. It was somehow both unsettling and reassuring at the same time.

“Yes,” Ahsoka confirmed. Morai took off, flying into the distance. Ahsoka then led them deeper into the jungle. Luke wanted to ask more about it, just like he wanted to ask Ahsoka to tell him all about his father, but somehow he knew that now wasn’t the time.

Eventually, she came to a stop next to a particularly large tree, and sunk down to the mossy ground. Luke made a face—the novelty of a world with so much water was giving way to the realization that damp things tended to be a lot slimier and smellier than sand—but followed suit.

“Vader sent you?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” Luke answered, relieved that she already knew. He had a feeling he'd struggle to keep anything a secret from her. “He said that I should ask you to train me.”

“Who's been training you up until now?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Luke said. In the interest of honesty, he added, “But we didn’t really get much training in. Just a few lessons here and there.”

“Even so, it’s paid off.” She smiled at him, blue eyes sparkling. “You have great potential, Luke.”

Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest. Her neutral face was already beautiful. But when she smiled, she was—he didn’t even know how to describe it!

The smile faded much too quickly. Though, maybe that was for the best. If Ahsoka kept looking like that, then Luke didn’t know if he’d be able to focus at all.

Ahsoka said, “I guess we should start our first lesson, then.”

“So you’ll do it?” Luke asked, heart leaping in chest.

“I can’t see your training through to its conclusion,” she replied. “but I’ll do what I can.”

Chapter Text

Even having only just met him, Ahsoka could tell that Luke was very much like his father. And there was no doubt that Anakin Skywalker was, indeed, his father.

Twins. Anakin’s children were twins.

Ahsoka glanced at where Morai had settled on a branch about a hundred meters away.

Twin children: a boy and a girl. In hindsight, she couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

She turned her attention back to Luke. Yes, he physically most resembled his father, but Ahsoka was struck even more by just how much he took after his mother.

It was clear in how open Luke was to the world around him—in how easily Luke fell into meditation. Where Anakin had always taken some time to reach the proper state of mindfulness, it came so naturally to Luke. It reminded Ahsoka of how Padmé had focused herself before entering the Senate. In many ways, Padmé had been no less passionate or impatient than Anakin, but she had always been more adept at weathering her internal storm.

The manner in which Luke looked at her was also very reminiscent of Padmé, though in a way that was far more troubling. It was reminiscent of how Padmé had looked at Anakin.

Ahsoka would have to nip that in the bud. Somehow. Her usual tactics for rebuffing such interest would not be appropriate here.

But that would have to wait.

“Tell me what you feel,” Ahsoka said softly.

“Life,” Luke murmured. “So much life.”

Ahsoka let out an amused huff. “Anything more specific?”

Luke took in a deep breath. Let it out slowly through his nose. “I feel the trees. I feel the sunlight. Animals and bugs.” His eyebrows twitched. “Worms.”

“Good. Let’s focus on the worms. What are they doing?”

“Burrowing.” He furrowed his brows in concentration. “Eating.”

“Eating what?”

The furrow deepened. “Dead things.”

“So, not just life?”

“Yeah,” Luke breathed, the tension easing from his face. “Death, too.”

Ahsoka hummed in approval. “What you feel, Luke, is balance. The worms eat what is dead, which replenishes the soil. This sustains the plants, which in turn sustain the animals. Life flows into death in a cycle of destruction and renewal.” Ahsoka basked in the rich scent of the jungle: blooming flowers, damp soil, and rotting trees. “To walk the path of the Light is to protect this balance. And to do that, one must seek out an understanding of one’s place within it.”

Luke smiled cheekily. “You can’t just tell me?”

Ahsoka couldn’t help but smile back. “If only it were that simple.”

Luke’s eyes fluttered open. “Ben put it a little differently, but I think he was trying to explain the same thing.”

“Ben…” Ahsoka huffed out a short laugh. “Do you mean Obi-Wan?”

“Yeah.” His face lit up in realization. “If you were once Vader’s—I mean, Anakin Skywalker’s apprentice, does that mean you fought with Ben during the Clone Wars, too?”

So, Vader and Leia had told Luke the truth. “He was practically my second Master.” Ahsoka huffed out another laugh. “I’d like to say I can’t believe he used that old codename, but…I would be lying.”

Luke’s eyes shone with a hope that Ahsoka found deeply unsettling. “Can you tell me about them? I mean, about how they were back then.”

Ahsoka’s stomach sank. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Luke.”

Luke frowned. “Are you and Vader not on good terms? I figured that maybe, since he sent me to find you…”

“That was a matter of pragmatism on his part.” She hadn’t planned on bringing this up, but she also had no intention of misleading him.

“So…” Luke’s face fell. “He betrayed you too.”

It was Ahsoka’s turn to frown. Vader had betrayed the Jedi and the Republic, to be sure—and Padmé most of all. But… “I don’t know if betrayal is the right word. We were simply on opposite sides for far longer than we were ever united.” Saying it out loud left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. “And for most of that time, I thought he was dead.”

Luke paused, gathering his thoughts, then said, “Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru—heck, even Ben…they were always so vague about what Anakin Skywalker was like. And I didn’t really have time to ask Ben for more details. Can you really not tell me even one story from the war?”

“Luke…” Ahsoka considered how to let him down gently, without coddling him in the process. “The person that Vader used to be is gone. While I understand your curiosity, indulging it will be unfair—to both of you.” Ahsoka had only shared more details with Leia because of Leia’s complete lack of curiosity. And even then, only as a way to caution her against the influence of the Dark Side. If Luke was already this attached to the idea of his father, then he risked becoming even more attached to the ghost of who his father used to be.

More pressing even than that, though, was the fact that Vader resented those that bore affection for his past self. Ahsoka knew this all too well. Vader had fully intended to kill her during their duel on Malachor, and that would’ve been more merciful than the fate he’d arranged after finding her there again. Doubtlessly, he would’ve left her entombed in carbonite forever if not for his desire to sway Leia to his side.

That was probably the only reason he had spared Rex, as well.

Insofar as Luke and Leia could ever be safe with Vader—a dubious proposition with anyone who had succumbed to the Dark Side—it was only because they didn’t know Anakin Skywalker.

Taking both of these factors into consideration, the path Luke desired led only to suffering.

There was a spark of defiance in Luke’s eyes. “But–”

Ahsoka held up her hand to silence him. To her surprise, he complied. “If I’m to train you, then you must respect my counsel.” For as long as she was able to give it, at any rate.

Luke still looked frustrated, but he said. “Alright. I will.”

Ahsoka took in a deep, steadying breath. “Close your eyes again.”

Leia gazed out at the whorls of hyperspace from her position in the copilot seat. Vader sat in the pilot’s seat, dressed in a crisp white ISB uniform with his hair neatly trimmed. Leia was dressed in the white armor of a stormtrooper—in a size that actually fit her—the face-concealing helmet in her lap.

Vader had explained that his high-level clearance codes would put the fear of the Emperor into the garrison at Phindar, who were primed to be terrified of the ISB by default. This would ensure seamless compliance.

So why did Leia feel so on edge?

“You are anxious,” Vader noted, not looking at her.

“A profound insight,” Leia shot back.

Vader glanced at her, a hint of a smirk crossing his lips. But it fell away quickly. “Do you wish to discuss it?”

“What’s there to discuss? It’s pre-mission jitters.”

“You are not prone to ‘pre-mission jitters’,” Vader said.

That was true. Leia was hardly immune to nerves and doubts in the long-term leadup to a mission, but she easily found a calm focus once it was underway. “I just…have a bad feeling.”

“That’s the Force, Leia. You should be mindful of it.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Do you have a bad feeling?”

“We are entering an extremely dangerous and unpredictable situation,” Vader said coolly. “The Force is merely reminding us both to be alert.”

So that was a “yes”. “Wonderful,” Leia drawled.

Silence descended for a few minutes, until Vader said, "These frustrations will persist until you hone your abilities. Then, you will be able to listen properly when the Force speaks to you, instead of having a ‘bad feeling’.”

Leia knew that she should just let the subject drop, but the churning tension in her belly was clearly getting to her. “It’s never going to happen, Vader.”

“Are you that afraid of your potential?” Vader asked, his smirk returning full-force.

Leia sighed. “Growing up, I had an acquaintance whose father was a notorious alcoholic. If the court gossip was to be believed, he was in and out of addiction treatment every other week. So, my acquaintance—who claimed she took after him in several ways—never had so much as a sip of alcohol. Not even ceremonial wine during the harvest festival.”

Vader snorted. “The Force is not an addictive mind-altering substance.”

“Maybe not. But the principle still holds.”

Vader’s expression sobered. “So…you’ve noticed it as well.”

Of course she had. Just like Obi-Wan had, years ago. Just like the father who raised her surely had. After getting to know Vader, it was simply impossible to deny. Nurture had a huge role to play in the development of a person—but nature also played its part.

And, in her nature, the influence of her biological father was plain. No matter how much she wished it wasn’t so. Vader was proof of how easily “passionate”, “fearless”, and “forthright” could be twisted into “volatile”, “reckless”, and “tactlessly cruel”. How compassion and generosity could be corrupted into self-righteousness and zealotry.

All it took was the right push.

“You’ve called me arrogant in the past,” Leia said. She gave him a flat look. “You’d know all about it, wouldn’t you?”

“Indeed,” Vader replied.

“Well, I’m not so arrogant as to think I can ignore the obvious.” Leia crossed her arms over her chest, resting her forearms on top of the helmet. “So, yes. I am afraid. Some risks just aren’t worth taking.”

Softly, Vader said, “If only destiny were so easy to evade.”

Leia snorted, realizing belatedly that it was in exactly the same manner Vader had earlier. Just to drive the point home, she supposed. “Do you actually believe that, or are you just coming up with excuses for why you’re not killing me?" Vader had made his purpose abundantly clear when all of this had started. But if Leia refused to ever train in the Force, then he had no reason to let her live. Unless, of course, Rex had been right, and Vader was "attached". "Do you really think that one day, at some point, ‘destiny’ will ensure that I’m of use to you?”

Vader didn’t respond.

Leia pressed on. “Now would be an ideal time to kill me. No witnesses, and the perfect cover. You’ve just discovered you have another child—one who carries a lightsaber, and who clearly wants your approval. You could even use my death to motivate him.” She quirked a brow at Vader. “Why wait for ‘destiny’ to take its course when you can give it a little push?”

Vader glared at her with flinty blue eyes. “Are you quite done, Leia?”

It was a confirmation, more or less, although Leia suspected she'd already known. But would this actually change anything? What use was that attachment, if Vader still insisted it was "too late" to be a father to Luke, and had to make ridiculous excuses to himself just to spare her life?

Leia stood, setting the helmet down on the chair. She walked over to Vader and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna grab some caf before we arrive. You want some?” The plain black caf that neither of them liked, but would choke down anyway.

Vader’s expression softened slightly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Chapter Text

After finishing his disgusting but invigorating cup of caf, Vader meditated on how Leia had grasped the ways of the Sith with nothing but her intuition. It was truly something special; he could just imagine how she’d psychologically terrorized any child who’d dare to cross her growing up, before her training as a politician had sanded down her jagged edges.

Alas, Vader was no longer a Sith. With the distance afforded by a drastic paradigm shift, he could now recognize that the Sith were just as shackled to dogma as the Jedi had been. Their way was very effective in nurturing power, but only for its own sake. Vader, set adrift by his own failures—and Sidious’ scheming—had embraced that philosophy for a time. But it had never sat comfortably.

He had at times enjoyed the power he cultivated with Sidious. At times, been awed by it. But never for long. Fleeting moments of euphoria and a series of petty triumphs were all Vader had to show for his years of service to the Emperor.

Not to mention, failing his son. And why had he failed his son? Because of that flawed Sith dogma, which so often disguised weakness as strength.

Coming to terms with this was not pleasant, but it was necessary. So much of his outlook had been poisoned by utter folly.

How had he ever thought that losing the suit was a test of his fortitude? Losing the suit was no test at all, but a lesson.

It had not been love that had doomed Skywalker. Indeed, both Skywalker and Darth Vader had ultimately had the same downfall. Both had been aimless, consumed by whatever task was directly in front of them. They had simply rattled off different sets of empty platitudes—all sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Lacking purpose.

And in truth, he’d almost allowed himself to get swept up in the same futile pattern once again. It had been Leia, in an act of thoughtless belligerence, who had forced him confront it.

A simple question. So simple, in fact, that it was absurd that he had never asked it of himself: If you had absolute power over the Galaxy, how would you rule it?

And yet, it had never crossed his mind. Not even in passing. Because, for all his fantasies of one day destroying his master, he had been too focused on the immediate gratification of besting irrelevant insects. Leia had been correct when she’d called him "leashed".

But not by Sidious. No, Vader had been a prisoner of his own pettiness and myopia.

With purpose, however, came clarity; it was plain to to him now why the Death Star needed to be destroyed. Not because it was an abomination or an affront to the Force, but because it would humiliate Sidious. All the more so if the staggering resources that had been poured into it amounted to naught, without a single shot being fired. Over a million personnel and trillions of credits, gone in an instant.

This was an unprecedented opportunity. One which he never would’ve recognized before Leia forced his hand on the Death Star. Back then, his resentment of the technological terror had been as petty as all his other pursuits.

Vader owed his new purpose to Leia. To the strength of her will, and her devastating intuition.

Destroying the Death Star would be only the first step to realizing that purpose, though. Just as crucial was what came in the immediate aftermath. “We can’t allow the Emperor to deflect responsibility,” Vader mused.

“You mean, after we destroy the Death Star?” Leia asked, glancing at him with her sharp dark eyes.

“Indeed. If we play our cards right, we can fracture the Empire from within. The key is to make the Emperor look weak and impotent.” Vader stroked his chin. “The civil war he seeks would only secure his position, as it would give the Empire an enemy to unite against. He used the same exact strategy during the Clone Wars—though with far more subtlety.” Vader sneered. “He is growing even more arrogant in his old age.”

Leia’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you saying that the Emperor was behind the Clone Wars?”

“Yes.”

“But you said he didn’t force the Separatists to secede.”

Her memory was impressive, too. “That’s because he didn’t. He used his previous apprentice to encourage them, but they made the choice freely.”

“Who was his previous apprentice?”

“Count Dooku.” He could practically see the cogs turning in Leia’s head. He continued, “It took me a few years to piece it all together. To understand just how thoroughly Palpatine had played everyone for fools.”

“Including you?”

Vader let out a short, bitter laugh. “Especially me.”

“But you still served him.”

Vader didn’t need to see the expression on Leia’s face to perceive her confusion and contempt, with the way it permeated through the Force. He considered a brusque dismissal, but, with some surprise, he realized that he wanted Leia to understand. “The Emperor didn’t merely recruit me, Leia. He befriended me when I was child—providing guidance and comfort that I couldn’t find elsewhere.”

Leia’s face twisted in horrified understanding. “He groomed you.”

Entirely too compassionate, his Leia. “He maneuvered me into a position where I would likely make the choices that would most benefit him. But they were still my choices.” Vader would never give that power to anyone else: not Sidious, and not Obi-Wan. “After that, I believed that he was the only choice remaining to me.” He gave Leia a meaningful look. “I was mistaken.”

Leia shifted in her seat, visibly uncomfortable. He wasn’t surprised when she changed the subject. “You said that we should try to fracture the Empire from within. But doesn’t that risk your plans by threatening to bring the whole Empire down?”

“I’ll need to purge the Empire of Palpatine’s loyalists in any case. This will simply expedite the process.” Vader smirked. “If the entire Empire is brought down by the rot being excised, then it doesn’t deserve to survive.” One empire could always be replaced by another, in any case.

Leia stood, empty cup in hand, and came to collect the one in his. Channeling her discomfort into looking after others. Vader had seen this before, when she had fussed over him after the surgery, and later when she had comforted Luke: distracting herself from her own grief by focusing on his.

It reminded him of another girl, not so much younger than Leia, worrying over a strange, sad little boy after finding out her people were being slaughtered.

“You take after your mother, as well,” Vader murmured.

Leia paused on her way to the cabin, turning to face him. She gazed at him for a few moments, saying nothing, then turned away.

Despite Leia’s trepidation, the mission started off without a hitch. When prompted, Vader transmitted his high-level security codes, and they were allowed to land in the garrison's main docking bay on the planet's surface.

An officer came to greet them—a tall, extremely pale middle-aged man with sunken cheeks—accompanied by a small regiment of stormtroopers. “Agent Storm, was it? I am Captain Mesad,” he said, voice reedy and carrying the accent of the Mid Rim.

Vader stared him down silently as he and Leia descended the ramp. Vader’s hands were clasped behind his back, his posture radiating authority. Unsurprisingly, he inhabited the role of an ISB agent flawlessly.

Captain Mesad cleared his throat, making an admirable effort to keep his anxiety off his face. “We were not informed of your visit, sir.”

“I am here to audit your records, Captain,” Vader said. Now that he and Leia were level with the others, he still had a good five centimeters on the Imperial officer. “Informing you ahead of time would defeat the purpose.”

Captain Mesad swallowed, beads of sweat visible on his forehead. “Yes, of course. My mistake.” He cleared his throat again. “Follow me.”

Leia and Vader were escorted to a comm hub. “Leave us,” Vader commanded Captain Mesad, who promptly obeyed, the door sliding shut behind him.

Vader immediately input something on the console, then said, “I’ve disabled surveillance. They won’t be able to spy on us or track the information we access.”

It was logical that high-ranking imperials would have that kind of clearance. It was logical that everything had been going so well.

But Leia’s “bad feeling” just kept getting worse. “It’s going too smoothly,” she said, at last giving tinny, modulated voice to that feeling.

Vader inserted a data stick into the interface. “You should get used to it, now that I’m helping you.” The words were said with a casual cockiness, lacking any of Vader’s usual affectation. “This is why you 'tolerate my presence', isn’t it?”

Leia shifted on her feet. “What if the codes you used have been changed, and this is just a ploy to see what information we’re after?”

“The codes will be good for another two months or so,” Vader explained, tapping away at the keypad.

“If they know you’ve defected, they’ll change them ahead of schedule.”

“They don’t know,” Vader said. “Do you think this is the first time I’ve gone off the radar? The Emperor will just think I’ve been stranded on some uninhabited planet without comms again.”

Under the helmet, Leia rolled her eyes. “By now, they must know that your fortress exploded.”

“They certainly do. But I have many enemies, all of whom are more viable suspects than me—and many of whom were stationed on the Death Star.” There was a beeping noise as Vader passed through yet another security check. “If I were the Emperor, I’d assume that Tarkin's death, Darth Vader's disappearance, and the destruction of the fortress were all part of the same plot by an ambitious or vengeful officer.”

Well, that was a relief. Leia supposed that the backstabbing dysfunction foundational to the Empire did lend itself to a lot of plausible deniability. “Do you often get stranded on uninhabited planets?”

“Only once or twice.”

Maybe what Captain Rex had said about Vader's landings had some truth to it.

“Here we go,” Vader announced. “The Death Star is currently stashed somewhere in the Rishi Maze. I’m downloading the data now.”

After a few minutes, he removed the data stick, brandishing it in front of him with a roguish smirk. “All too easy.”

Suddenly, Vader’s eyes went wide, and he thrust his hands forward.

Leia was flung away as the wall of the comm hub exploded.

Chapter Text

Luke awoke, gasping, with a terrible feeling constricting his heart.

Something bad had happened. He could feel it.

And…he was pretty sure it had happened to Leia.

He surged from his cot, clumsy in his groggy state, feet making a painfully loud smack against the tiles of dormitory floor.

“Keep it down,” one of the other cots’ occupants groused sleepily. “I have a shift in three hours.”

Luke flinched and whispered, “Sorry.”

He was more careful as he rushed out of the dorm, blinking in disoriented pain when he entered the brightly-lit hallway. He shook his head in an attempt to banish the spots from his eyes.

He needed to get to the hanger and convince Han to lend him the Falcon! Something had obviously gone sideways during Father’s mission with Leia, and he needed to get there to help!

After taking a few steps in the direction of said hanger, though, it occurred to him that he didn’t know where that mission was happening. So, if he wanted to do anything, he’d need to find that out first.

The only important people he knew were Leia—who was gone—and Ahsoka. At least, he was pretty sure Ahsoka was important. Biggs had said she was kind of a celebrity, right?

Luckily, Ahsoka had shown him where her quarters were after their first training session, and said that he could come find her if he needed. He really hoped she was there, and also that she wasn’t sleeping. He’d wake her up if she was, but he’d feel super bad about it!

He could hear voices inside when he arrived: Ahsoka’s, and a man’s. Luke felt an unfamiliar, unpleasant emotion clenching in his stomach. Swallowing, he pressed the door alert.

“It’s open,” Ahsoka called. “You can come on in, Luke.”

Luke opened the door, and was greeted by the sight of Ahsoka sitting at the small central table with a mug in hand. Across from her sat a bald, brown-skinned human man. Muscular, but a bit round about the middle, and on the older side. His rather impressive beard was completely white.

The man was grinning at him, like he couldn’t be more delighted. “You must be Luke Skywalker,” he said, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand for a shake. “The name’s Rex. Ahsoka’s been tellin’ me all about you.”

“Um, hi,” Luke said, stepping inside and shaking the proffered hand awkwardly. “I kinda need to speak to Ahsoka in private.”

Ahsoka gestured to the empty cot. He supposed because there were just the two chairs. “Have a seat, Luke. Rex can hear anything that you need to tell me.”

There was that feeling again. It really was awful. And it made him feel an extra surge of guilt because it was such a petty distraction from what really mattered.

Luke sat, trying his best to just ignore it. If Ahsoka said he could say anything in front of Rex, then Rex must know about everything. Luke had been relieved that Ahsoka had already known about Vader, but it seemed the secret he’d been entrusted with wasn’t such a secret after all.

Taking in a calming breath, Luke said, “Leia’s in trouble.”

At once, the two adults became completely serious. “Can you sense what kind of trouble?” Ahsoka asked.

“She’s hurt,” Luke answered, a lump forming in his throat. “And I need you to tell me where she is so I can help her.”

Ahsoka and Rex exchanged a look charged with meaning. “I don’t know where she is,” Ahsoka said, gently. “But even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Luke asked, unable to keep the sharpness from his tone. He’d promised to heed Ahsoka’s counsel, but that didn’t mean he just had to accept everything without an explanation, right? “I’m a decent pilot, a good shot, and I’m even getting pretty good with the lightsaber! I could definitely help them out!”

Evenly, Ashoka replied, “You’re not in a position to do anything to help them, Luke. I don’t doubt anything you’ve said, but you know nothing about the facts on the ground. If they’re in an Imperial facility, for example, you would need either a plan to sneak in or security codes. And then, once you were in, you’d need some kind of plan for tracking them down, and avoiding detection—or what to do if you fail to avoid detection.”

The words were like a handful of sand to the face. Luke slumped, ashamed of himself. “Right,” he said, dejectedly. “I really am just a dumb kid, huh?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Rex said. “We all gotta start somewhere. Why, the stories I could tell you about Commander Tano—”

“Can wait,” Ahsoka said dryly, cutting him off. She looked really cute when she was annoyed, Luke couldn’t help but notice.

Rex winked at Luke. “Remind me to tell you about the Battle of Felucia some time.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, but then gave a half smile and winked at him too.

It suddenly clicked, and Luke felt even sillier. “You two fought together in the Clone Wars.” Which meant that Rex also knew about Father and Ben.

The ugly, unpleasant feeling inside him evaporated as if it had never been there.

“Hell, kid—I’m one of the clones!” Rex exclaimed.

Luke blinked at him. From school, he’d known that the Clone Wars had mostly been fought by clones—hence the name. But for some reason, it’d never occurred to him that some might still be around. Let alone working with the Rebellion!

“Take a good look at this,” Rex said, pointing to his face. “If you see this on anyone else, you’ve just met one of my brothers.”

“Good to know,” Luke said, sincerely. What would it be like to have so many people who looked exactly like you running around the Galaxy? Was it really like having brothers?

Rex’s good cheer seemed to be back in full force. “I fought with your father, too—and that’s why I know that the General is doing everything in his power to get Her Highness back alive. That man can do the impossible, even if it involves some stumbles along the way.”

So, Father had been a general, like Ben. That was something! And maybe…

Ahsoka stood, heading over to a nook with a water dispenser, more mugs, and some packets. “Why don’t you tell us all about the journey you took to get here.” Ahsoka glanced back at him, grinning. “Rex and I have some friendly wagers to settle.”

Even with how worried Luke was, that grin made butterflies erupt in his stomach. He smiled back at her as best he could.

Vader held off the worst of the blast with the Force, then ran over to where Leia lay prone on the floor. A jagged pipe from the demolished wall had pierced Leia’s armor, puncturing her side. There was so much blood.

A visceral terror welled up within him—a ghost from another lifetime. All the more overwhelming for how long it had been since he had experienced it last.

Moving on pure instinct, Vader stashed the data stick away and gently lifted Leia into his arms, careful not to jostle the protruding pipe. She was alive, but unconscious. He exited the smoking wreckage left behind by the blast, noting that several stormtroopers and officers were rubbernecking from a safe distance. He sensed no hostility from them; only curiosity, shock, and trepidation.

“Medbay,” Vader said.

A slender, brown-skinned male officer stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. But he quickly came to attention, his expression morphing into a rigid, professional mask. “This way, sir.”

As they walked at a brisk pace, the officer explained, “We will investigate the cause of the incident posthaste, sir.”

Just as Vader had thought: they suspected nothing of his and Leia’s true intentions. Cooking the books in such a large facility was no simple task, and required occasional audits of its own to ensure the illusion of normalcy. Therefore, this had been a matter of sabotaging “Agent Storm’s” surprise “audit” to prevent some corruption from coming to light. A not altogether uncommon occurrence, given the price of being discovered.

Organized by Mesad and a small cohort of conspirators, most likely. Mesad had not been hostile, but he had been terrified—and in practice, the result of those emotions were similar.

Leia’s intuition had been right yet again, although her lack of training had rendered it too vague to be useful.

Nonetheless, Vader should’ve anticipated this outcome. With any real ISB officer, the assassination would’ve been successful, and would’ve been reported—eventually—as an accidental death. Another ISB agent would be dispatched to investigate, at which point the records would’ve been reviewed, sliced, and falsified. With bribes ready to go in the event that the investigator required additional convincing.

This conspiracy was of secondary importance, however. Vader would consider what to do about Mesad’s subterfuge only once Leia was safe.

The sleeves of Vader’s white uniform were stained with Leia’s blood as he slid her onto the surgery table in the cold, sterile medbay. There were two medics on duty: a very dark-skinned woman with black braids pulled into a regulation bun, and a fair-skinned man with mousy hair. They were accompanied by several medical droids with various specializations. The male medic approached Vader and said, “We’ll take care of your injury first, sir.”

Vader hadn’t even realized he was injured, which meant it was probably just some superficial flesh wound. But Imperial triage always gave precedence to officers and other high-ranking personnel, no matter how severe the injuries of the underlings.

Under normal circumstances, Vader approved. Officers were, generally speaking, less expendable.

But these were far from normal circumstances.

“Forget me,” Vader snarled. “Help the girl.”

The male medic’s eyebrows twitched in surprise, but then a smirk of “understanding” passed briefly over his face.

It was only the medic quickly taking action to help Leia that spared his life in that moment. It was no secret that some officers took “favorites” from among the stormtroopers, treating them as glorified concubines in flagrant violation of Imperial regulations.

This insect insinuating that Vader was doing so with his own teenaged daughter was intolerable. Even if it would help maintain their cover.

“It's good that you didn't remove the pipe, sir,” the female medic said, once the armor near the wound had been cut away by one of the attending medical druids. “It will need to be extracted surgically to avoid further damage.” She glanced up at him. “We’ll take it from here.”

It was a dismissal, and one that Vader should heed to keep up appearances.

“I will supervise,” Vader ground out, crossing his arms over his chest.

The medical droids hooked Leia up to a synthblood transfuser, and removed the rest of her armor—including her helmet—while the two human medics performed the surgery. Leia was a public figure, to be sure, but not a celebrity. While two low-level medical staff might recognize her name, it was doubtful they were interested enough in the goings-on of the former Imperial Senate to know what she looked like.

“There’s some damage to her large intestine,” the male medic said, once the surgery was complete. “The bacta spray has stopped the bleeding, but she’ll need full immersion to be stabilized.”

“How long?” Vader asked.

“An hour at least.”

“Do it.”

As Vader watched his daughter floating in the bacta tank, it occurred to him that she was very small. Smaller than both her mother and grandmother, in fact. The size of her personality and raw potential in the Force made it easy to forget.

It had been his failure that allowed that pipe to reach her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d used his abilities to shield another from harm; evidently, he was out of practice.

But more importantly, Leia hadn’t been able to defend herself. A born warrior, and proficient with a blaster, but leaving herself deliberately vulnerable.

If the pipe had hit her just a little bit higher, she would be dead. The life of his daughter, stolen away in an instant.

He’d only just found her.

Something unpleasant prickled at Vader’s awareness. He turned to see the male medic gazing at Leia’s body in the bacta tank—taking in the skin left exposed by her underclothes with frank appreciation. Vader wanted very badly to kill him, but restrained himself for the sake of stealth.

At least, until the medic caught Vader’s eye, tilting his head forward with a cocked brow and a half-smile. It took Vader a moment to realize that he was congratulating Vader on his good taste.

Vader strode up to the medic and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off of his feet until they were kicking helplessly in the air. He said nothing; offered no recourse. He simply squeezed until the impudent pervert stopped struggling.

There was a stirring of both fear and satisfaction as Vader let the corpse drop to the ground. He turned to find the female medic pointing a blaster at him, fumbling for her comm. Evidently, she hadn’t been fond of her colleague—but she was still afraid. Understandable. Not even ISB agents had the authority to kill lower-ranked personnel on a whim. Regardless of how much she had enjoyed witnessing the “murder”, she risked taking the fall if she didn’t report it immediately.

Vader snatched away her weapon and comm in a single motion, summoning them to him with the Force. They clattered to the floor beside the pervert’s corpse.

“Jedi,” she breathed, fear spiking.

“No,” Vader replied.

She swallowed. “Are you going to kill me too?”

Vader quirked a brow. “Will you continue to be of use to me?”

“Yes.” He noted that she’d dropped the “sir”.

“Will you ogle my daughter and make disgusting insinuations?”

Her eyes widened in comprehension. “No,” she said, with more conviction.

Vader narrowed his eyes. “Were you involved in the sabotage that almost killed my daughter?”

“No.” This was the firmest answer of the three.

Vader sensed the truth in her words. “In that case, I have no reason to kill you.” His mouth twisted into a humorless smirk. “You would be wise not to give me one.”

Chapter Text

Once Leia’s gaping wound had been healed into a raw patch of skin, the droids extracted her from the bacta tank, covering her with a light blue medical gown and placing her in a hoverchair

“Do you wish to revive her?” asked the floating medical droid, brandishing a needle.

“How long before the sedation wears off on its own?” Vader asked.

“Another hour,” the droid replied.

He turned to the remaining medic. “Will she be able to walk?”

“Not without discomfort,” she replied. “In the absence of additional bacta treatments, it will take her at least a week to fully heal.”

So the hover chair would be faster. And he didn’t particularly wish for Leia to see the likely conclusion to their “stealth mission”, in any case.

“Leave her, then.”

The medic had given no indication of recognizing Leia. And though she would certainly report on her encounter with a “Jedi”, she would not be able to identify him.

Vader had used the comm hub to erase the footage of him entering the facility, and disabled any further surveillance logging. As such, there would be no after-the-fact identification occurring either. The cameras were still running and providing a live feed, but none of the footage was being stored.

Thus, the medic’s testimony would be more or less useless, and Vader was inclined to be generous with her for saving Leia’s life.

He stunned her, so that she wouldn’t alert the rest of the facility before he had the chance to leave. The droids, on the other hand, had their own independent memory logs. To be thorough, he shot them all with his blaster’s full power—and crushed their memory cores for good measure.

He then retrieved Leia’s helmet with the Force, placing it gently over her lolling head.

Carting around a hover chair containing a very petite, unconscious young woman wearing a medical gown and a stormtrooper helmet was not, admittedly, the most dignified means of escape. But most of the personnel were wary enough of the ISB that they pretended not to notice as he passed. Those who failed to pretend not to notice were likely all green recruits.

But it was of no consequence. However ridiculous the helmet looked, it successfully concealed Leia’s identity. Just as a precaution, to ensure their testimony would prove just as useless as the medic’s.

When they arrived in the docking bay, Mesad was waiting for them, accompanied by an escort of six stormtroopers with blasters raised. Mesad himself was holding a comm.

Vader stepped in front of Leia and said, “It appears I gave you too much credit. Do you no longer care for plausible deniability?”

Mesad was still frightened, but now he was also angry. “I don’t need plausible deniability to deal with Jedi rebel scum,” he said, glowering.

Mesad was old enough to have served in the Clone Wars, and had perhaps even seen Force abilities up close. He had correctly deduced that such abilities were the only plausible explanation for “Agent Storm’s” survival. “You lack imagination, Captain.”

A flicker of doubt. “Is this the part where you attempt to convince me you’re actually with the ISB?”

“Certainly not.” Making a fist, Vader crushed the comm Mesad was holding. “You also lack spine. Did you wish to confirm your suspicions before summoning backup?” Mesad had gambled that he was either dealing with a real ISB agent or a Jedi. In the former case, he would want to minimize witnesses. In the latter, he’d counted on the “Jedi” being constrained by the Jedi Code, which would surely give him the chance to mobilize the entire base.

Cowardice paired with narrow-mindedness. Even if Mesad hadn’t harmed Leia, Vader would’ve killed him on principle.

Vader released the fist, then made a beckoning gesture with his pointer and middle finger. The blasters held by the stormtroopers were all ripped away.

Mesad’s terror spiked again.

“I am neither Jedi nor rebel, Captain.” To drive the point home, Vader swiped the same two fingers to the side. A stormtrooper’s head whipped violently in the same direction, snapping his neck.

It was a testament to stormtrooper conditioning that the others didn’t make a run for it the moment they saw their comrade crumple lifelessly to the ground.

At last, Mesad’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Lord Vader,” he breathed.

Vader smirked. “My reputation precedes me.”

“But…the suit…”

“Was obsolete.” Vader’s smirk widened. “I’m far more dashing like this, am I not?”

Mesad swallowed, hands trembling. “If I had known—”

“You would have applied yourself more rigorously.” Vader very much wanted to choke the life out of this man, but his reputation really did precede him. Better to muddy the waters with some variety. He gave a push with the force, sending the men before him sprawling. Then, he shot them one by one—tripping them whenever they attempted to flee. Or, in the case of one particularly intrepid stormtrooper, lunge for their weapons.

He saved Mesad for last.

On the off-chance that Mesad had sabotaged their shuttle as a contingency, Vader chose another at random.

He made it out of the planet’s atmosphere without incident. However, it became clear that his “work” had been discovered when a couple of TIE fighters caught up to him. The shuttle was much less maneuverable, and only had front-facing cannons. So Vader was relegated to dodging the TIE’s blasts while he got far enough away from the planet to enter hyperspace.

Vader was the best pilot in the Galaxy, but the difference in speed and maneuverability was just too great. His deflector shields were depleted by the time he was in position; one of the TIEs managed to graze the shuttle’s underside right before he made the jump to lightspeed. A diagnostic revealed that the landing gear had been damaged.

A tolerable outcome, given the circumstances.

The first thing Leia became aware of was a throbbing pain in her side. Then, more slowly, that there was somebody beside her.

She forced her heavy eyelids open, attempting to push herself upright. A sharp pain made her grimace and abandon the effort.

“Here,” Vader said, sliding his hands beneath her back and legs to gently maneuver her into an upright position on what she realized was a sleeping cot. It still smarted, but not nearly as badly.

He was kneeling, she realized.

“Thanks,” Leia rasped. She was just about to ask for some water for her parched throat, when Vader slid a cup into her hands. She gulped it down gratefully, then asked, “What happened?”

“You were injured badly in the blast, and were stabilized with bacta immersion.”

Leia’s head was spinning. “How did you manage that?”

“The sabotage was the result of a conspiracy to hide suspicious records. Luckily, the medical staff were not privy to it.”

Leia blinked. “So it was just Imperial backstabbing?”

“To start with. But when it came to Mesad’s attention that I’d survived, he suspected I was a Force user. He confronted me in the docking bay.”

“So much for stealth.” Leia muttered.

“Dying would’ve been counterproductive,” Vader said dryly. “In any case, I made sure that none of the records of our visit were logged.”

“Good.” Leia’s mouth was still dry. “Would you mind getting me some more water?”

Vader took her cup and stood. He returned a couple of minutes later; a tablet was pressed into her left palm before he handed her the cup in her right. “For the pain,” he said.

As Leia swallowed the analgesic, she reflected on how it wasn’t so long ago that Vader had injected her with drugs for the sake of causing pain.

Once she was sufficiently hydrated, Vader said softly, “This wouldn’t have happened if you had training in the Force.”

And there it was. “Missions come with risks. I accepted that long ago.”

Vader’s mouth thinned. “So you won’t even consider it?”

“Nothing’s changed.” Most people got through life just fine without the ability to make things float. And if Leia did end up dying on a mission, at least she would die as herself.

Vader took her empty cup and stood. He gazed down at her for a moment, expression grim. But his face softened as he said, “We’ll be back at base in a few hours. There’s an intercom on the wall if you need anything from me while I’m in the cockpit.” A pause. “Get as much rest as you can now, because you’ll need to strap into the copilot’s seat before we land. It might get a bit bumpy.”

Leia’s eyebrows shot up. “Bumpy how?”

So, this was what Rex had meant.

“It’s a good thing I managed to replenish the deflector shields,” Vader said, after the shuttle entered the Yavin 4’s atmosphere—and failed to decelerate due to damaged maneuvering thrusters. “Otherwise we’d be breaking apart from the friction.”

He didn’t need to say it. Leia could feel it in the way the shuttle was violently shaking, jostling her injury.

“How are you holding up?” Vader asked.

As novel as it was to have Vader be so concerned for her wellbeing, the timing was less than ideal. “Just focus on not getting us or anyone else killed,” Leia grit out.

“Everything will be fine.” He said it like Leia was being ridiculous!

“The last time you said that, I almost died in an explosion.”

“I never said it then.”

“You implied it.”

Vader released one hand from the controls to reach out in front of him. “Just watch."

He was doing something with the Force, clearly. Leia was suddenly reminded of how he’d managed to stop the decoy ship from leaving on Jabiim. Though, that had been preventing a ship from accelerating from zero, which was a very different proposition from slowing down a ship that was already going at near-full sublight velocity.

The shaking of the shuttle eased as Vader’s face screwed up in visible strain.

Once his hand dropped, Leia asked, “Why didn’t you do this before we entered the atmosphere?”

“It’s easier to work with the friction,” Vader replied, sounding tired.

Okay, that was fair enough.

Vader repeated this process twice more, until the shaking stopped completely, and only then started their proper descent. He looked completely worn out.

Leia took ahold of the copilot controls. The movement tugged unpleasantly at her wounded side, but she ignored it. “Let me take care of the landing, while you focus on keeping us from reaching terminal velocity." 

It was probably a testament to Vader’s exhaustion that he didn’t object. He just held out his hand again.

Vader managed to keep them from accelerating any more, but they were still going too fast to land safely. Leia took a gamble as they approached the heavily-forested surface, skimming the shuttle along the tops of the trees to slow them down. There was just barely enough power left in the shields to prevent any potentially deadly damage.

Leia was too focused on her task to check, but she was certain that Vader was doing his part as well.

Working together, they managed to finally make a very bumpy landing—taking down dozens of trees in the process. But the ship was intact and both of them were alive.

“See?” Vader murmured, with a quirk of his lips. “Fine.”

Leia burst out laughing, but had to stop because it hurt too much. After she’d calmed down somewhat, she said, “Sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

It was Vader’s turn to chuckle, though it sounded like he could barely manage even that. “I must look truly pathetic right now, if you’re going so far as to apologize.” He glanced at her, and his amusement vanished. “You’re bleeding.”

Probably from a combination of piloting the rough landing and getting shaken around in the safety restraints. It hurt, of course, but Leia suspected her high adrenaline was stopping her from feeling the worst of it.

Unbuckling himself, Vader said, “I’ll get you a bacta patch.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Leia noted dryly, doing the same. “Just focus on contacting the base. I’ll take care of it myself.”

Chapter Text

Once Leia had seen to her own wound, she brought the medpack over and gave him an inspection. “I think your only injury is the cut next to your eye.”

Right. The flesh wound. Vader had completely forgotten. “It’s of no consequence,” he said. Even now, he couldn’t feel it.

“Does the Dark Side stop you from getting infections?” Leia asked.

Vader mustered his remaining strength and snatched the medpack from her. “I’ll deal with it. You should get off your feet.”

She looked poised to argue, but stopped herself. With a sigh, she said, “Suit yourself.”

In the lavatory mirror, the position of the cut was revealed, as was its shape after Vader wiped it down with alcohol.

A thin cut which had just barely missed his right eye, stretching from above his eyebrow until the top of his cheekbone. The result of a piece of shrapnel from the explosion, which had somehow made it past his defenses.

Not a lightsaber blade, like the last time.

A message, as clear as day. The will of the Force made manifest.

He applied just enough bacta to disinfect and seal the wound, but not enough to prevent it from scarring.

Hera Syndulla came to retrieve them, piloting a modified transport shuttle. Presumably, the one he’d encountered previously had been lost.

Standing at the top of the ramp, Hera took in Leia sitting in the hoverchair, Leia’s now-bloody medical gown, and Vader’s soiled ISB uniform with a quirked brow. “Looks like things went well.”

“We retrieved the data. That is all that matters.” Vader handed her the data stick upon entering the shuttle with Leia in tow.

Leia said, “Thanks for coming to get us. Vader’s just grouchy because the landing took a lot out of him.”

Hera took in the smoking Imperial shuttle, and the long line of felled and damaged trees. “I can see why.”

Vader wouldn’t dignify the accusation with a response.

Hera turned a concerned look on Leia. “Are you alright?”

“It looks worse than it is,” Leia replied.

An orange-domed astromech rolled in from the cockpit, speaking in a low, abrasive binary. Didn’t this jerk used to wear a black life support suit?

Vader sneered at Hera. “Do you make a habit of sharing classified Alliance secrets with droids?”

“There’s no keeping anything from Chopper,” Hera said, wholly unapologetic. She retracted the ramp and sealed the hull.

We should toss him out the Phantom when we’re airborne, said “Chopper”.

“Let’s not antagonize Sith Lords who can understand binary, Chop,” Hera chided.

Vader didn’t have the energy to correct her for calling him a “Sith Lord”. He just rolled his eyes and went with Leia to sit in the cabin.

Vader only realized that he had fallen asleep when Leia shook him awake, saying, “We’re back at base. You should head to your quarters and get some proper rest.”

How embarrassing. “I’ll rest once you’ve been seen to by a medic.”

There was that flash of surprise that happened whenever Vader showed concern for her. After her little performance earlier, Vader had thought she understood.

Or perhaps acceptance was the real hurdle for her.

“We’ve already been seen together too often.” Leia tapped the controls on the right armrest of the hoverchair. “And anyway, I can pilot this thing myself.”

Vader raised a brow. “Do you think tongues aren’t already wagging?”

Leia frowned. “Then we should avoid throwing fuel on the fire.”

“My identity as Vader must remain a secret,” Vader said, voice dropping to a near-whisper even though he could sense nobody else on the shuttle. “But that doesn’t mean the nature of our connection must be secret, as well. It’s public knowledge that you were adopted, and a partial truth is more effective than a total lie.” Obi-Wan and Sidious had both taught Vader that lesson very well.

He could tell that Leia saw the sense in his words, even if she didn’t want to. “I need some time to think about it,” she said.

Vader held her gaze. “Don’t take too long. Rumors have a habit of lingering, once they've begun.”

Leia was so unbalanced by what Vader had said that she almost ran over Luke on the way to the infirmary.

She didn’t need to ask how he’d managed to find her; she’d sensed him the moment she’d entered the base. Felt his worry and relief.

Just as tangibly as she saw them now on his face.

“You’re really okay,” he said, his smile so warm that she could swear it lessened the pain in her side.

“More or less,” she replied. “Just on my way to make sure it’s ‘more’ rather than ‘less’.”

“I’ll help,” Luke said, lunging behind the hoverchair to grasp the handles.

Leia should turn him down, for the same reason she’d turned Vader down. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Do you even know where the infirmary is?” Leia asked him.

“You can direct me, Princess. Isn’t that what princesses do?”

During her first round of bacta immersion, Leia had been knocked out. But her second round, prescribed by the medic as a precaution, was undertaken while conscious.

And so, while she floated in the lukewarm goop, she had nothing to do but think. And Vader had given her a lot to think about.

If it were only her and Luke in the mix, Leia would gladly announce that she had a long-lost twin brother to the entire Galaxy. It was publicly acknowledging her relationship with Vader that was a tougher pill to swallow. A few, all-too-brief moments of warmth and humor didn’t change that.

But could she realistically do one without the other? And even if she could, would that be fair to Luke?

Vader wasn’t wrong. In all the confusion, neither of them had been especially cautious. And although she hadn’t personally heard any rumors yet, she shuddered to think at the conclusions that some of her comrades were jumping to.

It wasn’t as though there would be some kind of base-wide announcement. She just needed to give the green light to Mon and the Generals, and then they could explain the “partial truth” whenever it came up.

Maybe it was the most pragmatic solution, after all.

Luke had been hoping to have more time with Leia, but the medic had stuck her in a bacta tank for a couple of hours, so that wasn’t gonna happen any time soon.

An actual, honest-to-goodness bacta tank. Luke had never seen one up close before. On Tatooine, it was the sort of thing that only the crime bosses and business moguls in the big cities had access to. Meanwhile, the Anchorhead clinic was lucky to have enough bacta spray in stock to deal with the speeder and farming accidents that happened in a single day.

When he thought about how much had changed in just a few weeks, he felt dizzy.

He’d always craved excitement, when he was back on the farm. He never could’ve imagined it would be like this.

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru would’ve thought he was making all of it up. Aunt Beru would’ve given him that “stop being so silly” smile and asked him to come help her out in the kitchen, because the stove was on the fritz again.

With a heavy huff, Luke decided to go bother Father.

When Father opened the door to his quarters, Luke could tell immediately that the mission had taken it out of him. He even had a cut near his right eye that looked like it would scar. Though, that would probably end up looking really cool.

“You look like you’ve spent a windy afternoon out in the Jundland Wastes,” Luke said, stepping inside.

“That bad, huh?” Father replied, catching Luke off-guard. Admittedly, Luke had only spoken to Father a couple of times, but Father had always been so weirdly formal.

Luke understood why, after Leia had explained it. And he’d tried not to take it personally. But having his own father speak to him with more formality than any stranger he’d met on Tatooine had still sucked.

Feeling a bit guilty, Luke said, “I can come back later, if you need to get some shuteye.”

“Sleep can wait,” Father said, slumping into the chair by the small central table. All the quarters of the important people seemed to have the same setup. “Is there something you wish to discuss?”

Luke rubbed the back of his head. It felt awkward to keep standing, but there was just the one chair. Once again, he found himself sitting on somebody’s else’s cot. “I wanted to say sorry—for how I ambushed you before. After I felt Leia get hurt, I kept thinking about how both of you might not come back, and how the last conversation we had was mostly me whining.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Father murmured. “Nothing you said was incorrect.”

“Maybe not. But how I said it…wasn’t great.”

Father gazed at him silently for a while, which brought the awkwardness back. Luke was just about to excuse himself when Father spoke again, “How did your training go?”

Luke felt a grin explode over his face. “It went really well! Ahsoka’s amazing.”

Vader’s eyebrows shot up. “Is she, now.”

“Yeah.” Luke had to fight the dreamy sigh that had a tendency to come out whenever he thought about her. “She’s smart, strong, wise, kind…” Luke’s cheeks went warm. “I mean, you must already know, since you trained her back in the day.”

“She is…formidable,” Father said, like it was a concession.

That put a damper on Luke’s enthusiasm. “She still cares about you, you know. It’s really obvious.”

“She cares for who I was,” Father said, “and will never forgive me for what I’ve become.”

Father looked even more tired when he said it. And although it didn’t show on his face, Luke had the strong impression that it also made him sad. And angry.

But mostly sad.

Luke decided to press on. “She told me that you didn’t really betray each other. That you just kinda ended up on opposite sides. And now, you’re on the same side again, so—”

“It changes nothing, Luke.” Although Father cut him off, he didn’t sound angry. “In all likelihood, our paths will converge only briefly.”

That was Luke’s cue to drop the subject. Actually, he had a feeling that talking any more would get him nowhere. “Would you mind standing up?”

Father’s expression became bemused, but he still stood.

Luke followed suit, then surged forward to hug him. Father stiffened in response, arms locking at his sides.

But Luke didn’t relent, remembering what Leia had told him. Father hadn’t been hugged in decades; he just needed to get used to it again. “I’m glad that you and Leia are back safe.”

Father didn’t reply. Eventually, though, his posture eased up and he returned the hug.

Chapter Text

Vader awakened from a surprisingly restful sleep with a renewed sense of clarity.

Luke was pliable, just as he’d suspected. But it was a conditional pliability. And it was Leia, unwittingly, who had presented him with the path forward.

If he was to convince Luke to join him, then he would have to do it as Luke’s father. He would have to foster a relationship of openness and warmth—of paternal affection—much like Sidious had with him.

Of course, it would not be precisely the same. His affection for Luke was real, whereas Sidious’ had been an empty farce. And he would not turn Luke into a Sith apprentice, driven by hatred for his Master.

They would embrace the power of the Dark Side together. Vader, Luke, and Leia, standing together as one, unstoppable because of their bond.

Defeating the evil of Sidious to finally bring peace and order. As a family.

But he was getting ahead of himself. None of this could manifest without Leia's cooperation, and she was proving to be as stubborn as her mother had been. And that, unfortunately, called for a firmer hand.

It was a significant departure from his original contingency plan, which he had devised before he knew of Luke’s existence. Though it would be no less detrimental to the trust and—lately—rapport that he had established with his daughter.

But once he lifted the blinders from Leia’s eyes, he was certain that she would come to understand. Not forgive, perhaps—she had as much difficulty in that regard as he did. But he had already learned that it was possible to earn her warmth without her forgiveness.

He would do so again, in time.

The door to Leia’s quarters was opened not by his daughter, but by a very familiar droid.

“My apologies,” the droid said, showing no hint of recognition. Memory-wiped, unsurprisingly. “Mistress Leia is indisposed at present. Would you like to leave a message?”

“Ignore Threepio,” Leia called from behind the closed door of the lavatory. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

Stepping inside, Vader was greeted by yet another familiar droid. This one rolled up to him, beeping and whooping excitedly.

Anakin, is that really you? I thought for sure you were dead!

“You know this man?” C-3PO asked the astromech.

R2-D2 beeped an affirmative. He’s the one who built you.

“He did? Then why didn’t you say anything about it before now?”

It never came up.

“What do you mean, ‘it never came up’? That’s never stopped you from doing anything!” To Vader, he said, “Since you are allegedly my maker, I suppose I do not need to introduce myself. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance once again.”

Vader recalled Luke had spoken of purchasing an “Artoo” and “Threepio”, but those were common nicknames for certain models of droid. It had actually been these two all along?

Is something wrong? R2-D2 asked. Why won’t you say anything, Anakin?

Leia emerged from the lavatory, her hair loose, dressed in brown pants and a cream tunic. Her visit to the infirmary had clearly done the trick, because there was only slight stiffness when she walked.

She took in the scene before her with a sort of resignation. “What’s this about a maker?”

C-3PO turned to Leia. “I cannot recall it myself, but our obnoxious friend insists, and he has never given me cause to doubt his honesty.”

R2-D2 rolled over to Leia. First Obi-Wan pretends not to know me, and now Anakin won’t speak to me. But you still like me, right?

Leia smiled at the droid and stroked his dome, revealing that she didn’t understand binary when she said, “If this is the will of the Force, I have to wonder at its sense of humor.”

Vader finally managed to speak. “Is Artoo the droid that carried the Death Star plans?”

“Yup.”

Vader had once had a similar thought, when he had discovered that Leia knew Ahsoka and Rex. But now it was plain to him that it was no joke. “Let’s have breakfast in my quarters. There are some important matters I need to discuss in private.”

Leia raised an eyebrow. “Do you have anything in there to eat?”

Vader realized, with a jolt of embarrassment, that he did not.

Without waiting for his reply, Leia said, “I’ll grab some things.”

Vader turned down her offer of caf, but accepted one of the ration bars. Unlike the ration paste he’d eaten in the aftermath of his surgery, these actually had something resembling flavor. Even if it was mostly just sweetness.

She brought in the chair from her own quarters, and they sat across from each other at the table in Vader’s. She was trying hard not to think of how it reminded her of meals with her parents back on Alderaan. She was trying even harder not to think about how the two droids she'd known for as long as she could remember had been Vader's first—and that he'd even built one of them.

After taking a bite of his bar and chewing thoughtfully, Vader declared. “We need to have a proper meal together sometime.”

“Not in the foreseeable future,” she replied, grateful that he wasn't bringing it up. “The Death Star’s just the beginning.”

“I take it you haven’t yet had a chance to discuss what’s to be done about it, now that they have its location?”

“I’ve requested a meeting for today,” Leia confirmed. “I’ll bring up what you and I discussed on the way to the mission.”

“And what we discussed after?”

Leia let out a breath. “What name would you use, if we went that route?”

“Luke has already announced it to half the base, from what I can tell, so…Anakin Skywalker.”

Leia blinked at him, taken-aback.

With a half-smile, Vader said, “I require a pseudonym.”

“And a partial truth is more effective than a total lie,” Leia finished for him.

“It would be rather childish to avoid a pragmatic solution on the sole basis of my ‘personal identity issues’, would it not?”

So…he’d actually listened to her? “In that case, I’ll discuss this as well.”

“Excellent,” Vader said, sounding genuinely pleased.

Leia thought that was the end of the “important matters”, and was considering taking her leave.

But then Vader said, “There is another, even more pressing topic to discuss.”

Why did Leia suddenly have a bad feeling?

Vader took another bite of his ration bar, in a way that suggested he was stalling. After swallowing, he said, “What I’m about to say is going to upset you, but you've unfortunately made it unavoidable.”

“That’s a hell of an opener,” Leia said.

“Isn’t it just?” Vader deadpanned. “But for the sake of clarity, I’m going to explain my reasoning in excruciating detail, so it’s best for you to brace yourself.”

Leia grimaced, setting down her cup. “Or I could just leave.”

“You could.” Paradoxically, Vader’s blue eyes were warmer than she’d ever seen them before. “But you won’t.”

He was right, damn him. Whether it was because of a twisted curiosity, or a sense of inevitability, Leia wasn’t going to leave.

Vader set the ration bar down, and he cleared his throat. “During our mission, your life was endangered because of my failure, but also because of your own weakness.”

“My weakness,” Leia repeated, incredulously.

“Yes,” Vader stated, matter-of-factly. “You stubbornly resist your potential, in part because you resent that I’m your father. But more importantly, because you fear how much you are like me. That’s weakness, Leia.”

Leia huffed out a cynical laugh. “So it was about this, after all. I thought you might be going for something original.”

“Yes, it’s about this. Because nothing is more important.”

Leia rolled her eyes.

Vader remained nonchalant. “On the Death Star, you made a very compelling case against coercion. As my usual methods of persuasion were inappropriate, and escalation would’ve been counterproductive, I found myself with little choice but to compromise.”

By “usual methods”, he obviously meant torture and murder. And by “escalation”, he probably meant… “Did you consider threatening Alderaan?”

“Not the whole planet. Just individuals of personal interest to you.”

Leia picked up her caf and took a sip. “‘Counterproductive’ is one word for it.”

“Use whatever label you wish.”

Leia decided to go with “evil” and “monstrous”.

Vader continued, “After my initial compromise, I determined that any attempts at coercion would be futile, since it would make you resist all the harder. But I didn’t yet understand the nature of your stubbornness. And now that I do, I’m compelled to reconsider that conclusion.” He cocked his head slightly to the side. “Not to mention that our present circumstances have given me a much more favorable negotiating position.”

In a different context, Leia might have gloated over the fact that he’d just admitted it had been a negotiation from the start. But with the turn the conversation had taken, she was much too on edge for that. “So, what are the terms of this…negotiation?”

“As you’ve already surmised, I will not kill you. Not because you are of use to me, but because I care for you.”

Leia almost wanted to laugh.

“But—” Vader quirked his brows “—I do not care about the rebel scum who inhabit this base. And thus, I present you with two options: you will either agree to let me train you in the Force, or I will kill everyone here besides your brother.”

Leia’s first instinct was to scoff. “I know you’re powerful, Vader—but not even you could take on an entire base on your own.”

“Incorrect,” Vader said, without a hint of bluster.

Not for the first time, the most unsettling part was that there was absolutely no coldness and hostility in Vader’s demeanor. He was just relaxed. Conversational. Like they really were having a perfectly mundane little chat over breakfast.

Leia’s stomach clenched painfully. “You’d even kill Ahsoka and Rex?”

Vader considered. “If Ahsoka survives her inevitable attempt to stop me, I will return her to the carbonite. And if Rex holds firm to his commitment, he will be spared. But I suspect he will not.”

Leia didn’t know the nature of this “commitment”, but she suspected Vader was right.

“I want to make the terms clear, Leia: if you agree to train with me, our existing arrangement will remain in place. I will continue to aid these rebels in whatever capacity they see fit, and I will not force you to join me. The rebels may indeed prove to be useful allies in defeating the Emperor, but they are expendable. You, however, are not—and I won’t permit you to hide from your power any longer.”

Leia curled her hands tightly around the cup of caf to stop them from shaking. “Luke would never forgive you for it.” Saying that she would never forgive him was pointless, after everything she already couldn’t forgive.

Vader actually smiled. Not a smirk, or a vague twitch of his lips, but a real, genuine smile. It made him look so much more like Luke that it took her breath away. “I haven’t known your brother for as long as I’ve known you, but I can already tell that he takes very much after your mother.” The smile faded almost as quickly as it had come. “When I was about your age, a tribe of Tusken Raiders kidnapped your grandmother and slowly tortured her to death over the course of several weeks. As revenge, I slaughtered them all. Not just the men, but the women and children. Your mother was one of two people I ever told before today, almost immediately after the deed was done. And though she was horrified by my actions, she still loved me—and so she forgave me.”

Leia felt sick.

“Of course, the mitigating circumstances played a large role in that. But there are mitigating factors in this case, as well. If I explain my reasons to Luke—about how close you came to death, and how you refuse to take steps to ensure it doesn’t happen again—he won’t like it, but I think he’ll forgive me. Because he’ll want to forgive me.” Vader paused, brows drawing together for a moment. “Perhaps I’ll spare the few he’s genuinely attached to here, as a gesture of good will.”

In her gut, Leia knew that Vader was right. Through the painful lump in her throat, she said, “It would still hurt him.”

“Very much,” Vader agreed softly. “But learning about necessary sacrifices is an important part of growing up. So if it comes to that, it will ultimately make him stronger.” Vader’s eyes grew almost…sad. “But I understand the true meaning of your words: that destroying the inhabitants of this base would cause you immeasurable pain. Far more than your brother, who has only recently found himself among your long-time comrades. But your pride won’t let you say it—and you also think I don’t care.” The expression on Vader’s face became earnest. Open. “But I do care, Leia. Causing you pain brings me no joy. Even on the Death Star, when we were nothing but enemies, I took no pleasure in your interrogation. I was just doing my duty.”

Leia couldn’t bring herself to speak another word.

“And now, I have a new duty as your father: to protect you. Even from yourself.” His eyes flashed. “No—from the brainwashing which has made you ashamed and frightened of who you really are. I will never forgive the ones who stole you away and made it necessary for me to go to such lengths in the first place.”

A few tears ran down Leia’s cheeks, entirely without her permission. Maybe Vader was right; maybe she really was weak. She couldn’t even find the strength to get up and walk away.

Force, she’d been such a fool.

Vader got to his feet, coming to stand beside her, and leaned on the table. “I failed your mother, but I will not fail you. I will shoulder the burden of your hatred and disdain, if that’s what it takes to make sure you survive.” Leia knew, without a single doubt, that every word was sincere. He reached out and brushed her tears away with a gloved hand. “My fierce, headstrong, extraordinary little Leia. These feelings can lead to only one of two outcomes: suffering, or power.” The smile returned, even larger than before—warm and full of affection. “Let me give you power, my daughter, so we can avoid all of that unpleasantness.”

Just as she’d feared, that smile made him shine as brightly as a sun.

No—brighter.

A supernova.

Chapter Text

Vader didn’t need to Force to know the exact moment that Leia made her decision. He could see it plainly in her eyes.

It didn’t bring him any satisfaction, to see the resignation in those big brown eyes. The pain.

But this was something that had to be done.

“I agree to your terms,” Leia said, jerking her face away from his hand, expression shuttering with the same practiced, haughty mask that she’d worn when she’d been captured on the Tantive IV.

But he could still sense her sadness lingering beneath, radiating through the Force like a black cloud. An answering melancholy settled heavily in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn’t pleasant, but it also wasn’t unwelcome. Because it was proof of the bond that had formed between them. Proof that he was doing this from a place of concern, and not some twisted desire to dominate.

Proof that he wasn’t the kind of monster who enjoyed making his own daughter cry.

Leia stood stiffly and walked out of his quarters, not saying another word.

Once the door slid shut in her wake, Vader picked up his ration bar and sat down, contemplating as he chewed through the rest.

Would it have ever come to this, if he’d raised her himself? Leia would have pushed back against any authority, insofar as she could afford to, much as he once had. But if he’d been there to guide and protect her, to spoil her when he could and discipline her when he must, then surely such threats would’ve never been necessary.

He’d never actually met Leia as a child. Too focused on Kenobi during the Third Sister’s antics to worry overmuch about the little girl that he’d thought to be Bail Organa’s whelp. Ultimately, it was for the best that their paths had never crossed back then; her association with Kenobi and the traitor Organa would've likely made Vader…injudicious.

But he could imagine her as a ten-year-old. Bold, fearless, and far too perceptive for her own good. A princess, sheltered from hardship and danger. Accustomed to a certain degree of deference, no matter how much lip service the Alderanian court paid to egalitarianism. She would’ve been defiant, heedless of the probable consequences.

The security records of Fortress Inquisitorious were meticulous. Perhaps, if he ever returned there, he could track down some footage of Leia’s visit. See exactly how Leia had fared against the Third Sister.

Vader jolted up from his seat. No, he didn’t need to go all the way to the Mustafar System again. R2-D2 had been with Organa all this time, and his memory had never been wiped. Surely, he’d have footage of Leia as a child.

And not just that. Evidently, R2-D2 hadn’t seen what had transpired between Vader, Padmé, and Obi-Wan on Mustafar. If he had, then his reaction to Vader would’ve been overtly hostile.

He'd been Padmé’s droid first, after all.

But even if R2-D2 hadn’t witnessed the confrontation, there was a high probability that he’d been present for the aftermath. That he’d seen what had become of Padmé, and the precise circumstances of her passing.

Vader grabbed a data stick, then headed immediately to Leia’s quarters. Leia wasn’t there, but she had left the door unlocked—trusting her comrades not to burgle her. Saving Vader the trouble of slicing the door.

R2-D2 and C-3PO were still inside.

“Hello again, master Anakin,” C-3PO chimed. “How can I be of service?”

Ignoring him, Vader said to R2-D2, “I’m sorry for not speaking to you earlier. It was just a lot to take in.” He reached out and touched the astromech's dome. “I need you to give me something important, Artoo.”

Anything for you, R2-D2 replied.

Mon agreed to Leia’s request for a meeting, and Leia had only the duration of her walk to Mon’s office to get herself under control.

She wasn’t even upset at Vader, really. It wasn’t as though she’d deluded herself into thinking he was anything other than a monster.

No, the person she was truly upset with was herself. She really had been absurdly arrogant, thinking that she had somehow managed to get the upper hand over Vader, of all people. He had served an important purpose in coming here, but he was simply too dangerous to be trusted.

Moreover, if anyone on this base attempted to attack or arrest him, he’d simply slaughter them all. Leia was the one who had put them in danger; she would have to be the one who got them out of it.

And somehow, she'd have to do it alone.

For now, though, she needed to make Vader think that he’d won. Doing so would buy her some time to come up with a plan.

That was why, once she settled into the chair at Mon’s desk, she calmly told Mon about what she and Vader had agreed upon. Ignoring the bile that rose to the back of her throat.

Mon frowned in thought. “I do see the logic behind that decision, but I fear Anakin Skywalker’s reputation may cause problems of its own.”

“Because he was some kind of legendary hero during the Clone Wars?” Leia was certain that Vader had no desire to seduce anyone over to his side in some attempt at a coup. That wasn’t Vader’s modus operandi under normal circumstances, and certainly not after he’d decided to use everyone on the base as leverage. But Mon was still right to be cautious.

“Yes.”

Leia smirked. “Then let’s say he became a small-time pirate. A shameful decline from legendary hero to petty criminal.”

“A fallen Jedi pirate,” Mon murmured, lips quirking up every-so-slightly. “I suppose that will have to do.”

Vader borrowed a small holoprojector from Leia’s quarters before returning to his own, datastick filled to capacity with footage. Sitting on the edge of his cot, he scrolled through the files, lingering over the one labeled for the Polis Massa medical station.

No, he decided. Now was not the right time. He would wait for the rift between himself and Leia to be at least somewhat mended before confirming whether or not Sidious had been lying.

He switched to one of the other files, instead. A recording from the Tantive IV, the timestamp placing it around eleven years ago.

After a brief transfer, he activated the holoprojector, revealing a little girl with big brown eyes and long brown hair pulled up in a braided bun, skittering across R2-D2’s field of view. She then glanced around warily before ducking behind a panel.

R2-D2 asked, Just what are you up to?

Little Leia whirled around, giving the illusion of looking directly into R2-D2's holocamera. In a stage whisper, she said, “You can’t rat me out, Artoo. If they find me, Mom is going to make me apologize to Niano. But there’s no way I'm apologizing when he was the one being a jerk!”

I’d never rat you out, R2-D2 promised. But you can’t hide in here forever.

Little Leia dropped from a crouch to a more comfortable sitting position, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. Even if she didn’t understand binary, she seemed to have picked up on R2-D2’s tone.

Vader paused it there for a moment, gazing at what was perhaps the most adorable thing he’d ever seen in his life, left with no doubt that this “Niano” boy had deserved whatever tongue lashing Little Leia had given him.

Certainly, Vader would’ve never forced her to apologize for putting some insufferable brat in his place.

He worked his way through several more files. Most of them took place on the Tantive IV, which seemed to have been R2-D2’s main base of operations. The earliest file was of Leia as a toddler, chasing after a flying toy droid, trying to catch it with her stubby little arms and giggling every time it got away.

This one, Vader watched over and over, the bittersweet melancholy growing with each repetition. He imagined being there with her. Catching her in his arms to swing her around, making her laugh in delight. Pulling her close to kiss her chubby cheeks.

She really was the most wonderful little girl in the whole Galaxy. 

With a start, he realized that his face was wet.

Shutting down the holoprojector, Vader buried his face in his hands. He allowed himself to feel it all: the longing and the grief. The burning ache of loss.

He allowed himself to weep as he hadn’t in a lifetime.

Luke sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead as he rolled out from underneath an X-wing. He’d been feeling anxious since that morning, and, since Ahsoka was tied up in meetings, he’d volunteered to help with starfighter maintenance to work through some of the nervous energy.

It had maybe worked a bit too well, because he was totally pooped.

“Luke?”

Abruptly, Luke sat up, almost overbalancing the creeper. Father was standing in front of him, looking pretty wrung-out himself. His blue eyes were rimmed in red, and his face was paler than usual.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked, pushing himself to his feet.

Instead of answering directly, Father said, “I could do with some fresh air. Would you care to join me?”

Of course Luke agreed, and soon they were outside the base, trudging through the jungle. It was a particularly warm day, and Luke could swear that the air itself was wet. “Never thought I’d miss the desert,” Luke muttered, making another futile attempt to wipe the sweat off his face.

“I know what you mean,” Father said. “Before I left Tatooine, I never could’ve imagined that there was such a thing as too much moisture.” Father stepped carefully over a rotting branch. “One advantage of the suit was that I never had to worry about the weather.”

Luke followed Father’s example, then gave him a sidelong grin. “Well, now you get to sweat with the rest of us, Father.”

Father came to a stop and turned to him, an odd expression on his face. “‘Father’ is a bit stuffy, isn’t it?” Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “I never called Mom ‘mother’ even once.”

Luke blinked at him, thrown off by the smile and unsure if he was understanding him right. “Do you…want me to call you ‘Dad’?”

The smile faded, and Father suddenly looked tired again. “I owe you an apology, Luke. I realize now that I haven’t been fair to you.”

Luke swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s fine. I get it.” He huffed out a strained laugh. “Finding out that you have two long lost kids had to be pretty intense.” Even leaving aside everything else.

“It’s not fine,” Father said. “I let you down. Not just in failing to find you, but in failing to be a father to you once I had. I was caught up in a flawed point of view, and it blinded me.” He reached out to gently grasp Luke by the shoulder. “I’d like to try being a family…if you’ll have me.”

Luke felt dazed. Like this was some kind of dream.

Had one hug really been all it took to turn things around?

Through the lump in his throat, Luke managed, “Of course I will, Dad.”