03/13/19 A/N: Just so that all my lovely readers are aware, this story and the other posted stories in my Lady Adyé Series are going to be retired in the near future.
What does this mean?
It means I'm about to start the process of revisiting this series and revising and expanding the Three Main Stories - Lady Amalia, Lady Obscura, and Lady Adye. It means I'm looking into integrating parts of my companion one-shot collection, this companion story, unpublished material and new material into the main stories. It's going to be the same story, just with more to explore and enjoy!
When is this going to happen?
I don't have a concrete answer for that one. I have a couple other stories I need to finish first, but I'm already starting to work on this project, working on which one-shots to integrate, areas I would like to expand, areas I need to clean up - all that fun stuff. But it is going to happen and, once it does and the New Versions go live, I'll be posting a notification to all the Retired Versions of the series (that I decide to leave posted) to let everyone know!
So if you have any thoughts, I'd love to hear from you! There are a few areas I'd love to get some reader feedback on so if any of you are interested in chiming in, feel free to PM me!
Oh, and if you have any thoughts on specific one-shots from 'Their Lady Adye' (or any new ideas I may not have thought of/considered yet) that you think *must* make it into the main stories or *must* be left out, don't be afraid to let me know!
I'm always interested in outside perspectives. :)
Happy Reading, lovelies! Stay tuned!
And may the Force be with you!
Lady Obscura: A Rogue One Story
Summary
Just as Rogue One serves as a Prologue to Episode IV, this story is a prologue to Lady Obscura: Little More than a Shadow. It provides a glimpse into Athara's life as Vader's Shadow in the critical lead up to the events that would culminate in the destruction of the Death Star over Yavin IV. A glimpse into the life of Lady Obscura. Part of the Lady Adyé Series.
I will only post a single disclaimer, and it is this: I do not own Star Wars, though I desperately wish I did.
I only own my own characters and the tweaks I have made :) If it wasn't in the Movies, it's mine. More than that, the only source I am considering indisputably Canon for the purposes of this story are the Films. However, there are the odd details inspired by the EU, the tv shows and so on.
Just a quick note:
This story is part of what I have lovingly dubbed The Lady Adyé Series, which is made up of the Lady Adyé Trilogy and a companion series of One-Shots, Their Lady Adyé. As the summary suggests, this story is a direct prequel to the second story in the Trilogy, just as Rogue One is to Episode IV.
This Story takes place IMMEDIATELY BEFORE the events of Lady Obscura: Little More than a Shadow.
That being said, you do not have to read the other stories before reading this one! This one, while not precisely stand-alone, does not absolutely require familiarity with the other stories to be enjoyed, though it does lead directly into Lady Obscura just as Rogue One leads into Episode IV.
Just something to keep in mind. :)
Chapter 1
Her lightsaber was a blur of vibrant crimson as it spun and wove through the air in her practiced hands, the hum alternatively even and comfortingly low or violent and purring as it slashed and cut through the air. The practice droids ultimately stood little chance against her. Only her Master possessed skills that rivalled her own.
But then, Athara's Master was the only one she'd ever faced or even encountered who wielded a lightsaber as she did. So in that respect, it was a hollow statement.
Today, however, the droids were not falling so quickly as they should. Today, Athara was breaking a true sweat against them. The bolts they fired at her never made their marks, of course, easily deflecting off her crimson blade, but they just kept coming. She couldn't seem to overcome them. She was too at peace today.
She'd given into the impulse to extend her warm-up exercises, running through the forms and stances that she knew without thinking for longer than was truly necessary, allowing the fluid movements and quicksilver motions to lull her into a sense of peace.
And peace was certainly not a way to the Dark Side. Peace was a lie. Athara could all but hear her Master's scolding tone in her head, urging her to tap into the immense reserves the Dark Side had to offer and not let herself be held back by weaker emotions; it was through passion that she would gain strength, after all. It was a core tenet of the way of the Sith. And with strength came power.
And only with power could she keep herself safe.
Her frustration at being unable to end the session was what finally proved to be the key. That frustration was what finally allowed her to break through the calm her exercises had fostered and tap into the simmering anger lingering in the back of her mind that linked her with the Dark Side. With a sound reminiscent of a snarl, she drew on the Dark Side as she spin and lunged, her lightsaber becoming a veritable shield in her deft hands against the training droids. The live bolts hissed and burst against the crimson blade as she sent them ricocheting back to their source even as she reached out, one of the droids crumpling under an invisible grip as her hand fisted tightly.
A few more heartbeats and the session was ended.
Though her breath still came heavier than she would have liked, Athara straightened easily as her lightsaber fell dark and silent, the boost from the Dark Side easing the aches and the fatigue that had begun to set in as the session dragged on. She wasn't entirely satisfied, still annoyed that the session had lasted so long in the first place, but she was pleased with how the Force had responded to her call as easily as it did. Slowly but surely, the Dark Side was answering her with greater ease and awareness. Her Master would be pleased, and that in turn pleased Athara.
It had been a source of great aggravation for her Master for many years that Athara could not seem to touch the Dark Side as easily or as completely as her Master or Emperor Palpatine were capable. Sure, she could wield it with great proficiency—which was only apt given how long she had been apprenticed to Darth Vader himself—but she could never quite seem to make that final elusive leap that would bring about her mastery of it.
Not that that truly bothered her in her secret heart of hearts.
Reaching out with the Force, her hand raised and gesturing lazily as it served as a focal point for her will, she sent the droids back to their niches to power down—or in the case of the destroyed one, disposal. Once that had been taken care of and her lightsaber securely reattached to its place on her belt, she was turning and striding out of the rooms set aside for training, heading back to her personal rooms in the quarters set aside for her aboard the Devastator, her Master's personal flagship. Being aboard the Star Destroyer was as close as Athara got to feeling at home. She'd certainly spent enough time aboard it to consider it as such and, on top of that, was periodically left in command when her Master had business to attend to elsewhere. Even her self-furnished apartments on Coruscant didn't feel as familiar and comforting as the Star Destroyer's regulation-maintained corridors, homogenous quarters and uniformly laid-out decks.
It did not take long to freshen herself up after her exercises, merely needing a quick round in the 'fresher and a fresh shirt and tunic to make herself suitably presentable to journey up to the bridge. While she didn't really care either way, she was aware enough of the effect appearance made to those under her command to take care with how she presented herself. The more put together and disciplined she appeared personally, the more in control she appeared, and given that she was essentially a teenage human girl in command of the Imperial war-ship belonging to the Emperor's Right Hand, she wasn't about to disregard any help she could get for maintaining her authority, no matter how trivial it seemed.
Not that she really seemed to need it…
The knowledge that she was Darth Vader's Right Hand just as Vader was the Emperor's was usually more than enough to earn her the deference of just about any Imperial throughout the Empire. And that was without taking into consideration her own earned reputation. She was just as efficient, devoted and even as ruthless at times as her Master—though without the habit of revelling in the act of killing—when it came to achieving her objectives. It earned her a general regard among Imperial forces that belonged to her alone. After all, she couldn't just float by on her Master's reputation. And she certainly didn't. But that was little surprise when considering who had taught her everything she knew.
The fact that very few in the Galaxy knew her beyond her reputation and her shadow-like presence at Vader's side and fewer still knew her true name, age or even her face didn't hurt either. The deep, shadowed cowl of her cloak had long since proven to be almost as effective a tool as the lightsaber that hung from her belt or the name the Emperor had given her: the Dark Lady Obscura.
It was as she raised that hood into place over her neatly braided-back hair and began striding toward the door of her personal quarters that her comm chimed, alerting her that the Devastator was preparing to drop out of hyperspace. Unable to help herself, a faint smile curled Athara's lip as the durasteel flooring beneath her feet rumbled, signalling the ship's return to real-space. It meant they were approaching the second place Athara was most likely to consider home.
Not that many people in the galaxy would ever consider Mustafar to be particularly 'homey'. But at the pointed approval of the Emperor, the lava-covered planet was where her Master's private Fortress was located; his sanctuary, of sorts, away from the bustle and politics of the Imperial Capital. It was a forbidding place that attracted few visitors, and though Athara knew her Master was not fond of the Fortress' location in the slightest—too much history, she'd come to suspect over the years—she knew he very much appreciated that fact enough to tolerate its location. And it was an opinion Athara shared. In addition to the Devastator and its predecessor before it, the imposing obsidian structure amid the lava rivers of Mustafar was where the Sith apprentice had been raised. It was familiar and was, effectively, hers as much as it was her Master's. She would even be willing to bet that she knew the Fortress better than Vader himself did, having spent a great deal of time exploring the foreboding corridors and dark, cavernous chambers during her free time and moments stolen away from her lessons when she was a child.
Even before she arrived on the bridge she was able to faintly feel her Master's presence on the planet below, reaching out with her consciousness to inform him of her return after her latest mission. Not that she was about to ever admit to anyone beyond her Master that she could do as much. That she was capable of doing so at all far outstripped the level of Force-potential the Emperor believed her to possess. And as giving him any reason to believe she was far more powerful than she projected in his presence—and the presence of his myriad spies throughout the Galaxy—would be nothing short of suicide, she fully intended to keep the true depth of her abilities between her Master and herself. As such, the first thing she did upon stepping onto the bridge was to order that her Master be notified of her return. It was an order that was carried out without hesitation, as was her subsequent order to prepare a shuttle for her imminent departure for the planet's surface.
No matter that it was a trip that had become familiar for its regularity, there was no escaping the tension or the anxious focus that permeated the shuttle as Athara was ferried down to the planet's surface. Not for the first time she seriously contemplated piloting the craft herself, the pilots' anxiety about navigating the volatile atmosphere of the volcanic planet only serving to ratchet up her own unease. The powerful storms and gale-force updrafts only compounded the danger the electro-magnetic interference inherent to the dark, naturally hazardous planet created. There was little relief from the cloying strength of the flight crew's fear even when the Fortress' planet-side guidance systems and tractor beams kicked in to take over guiding the shuttle to its assigned landing bay.
Athara's only relief came when the shuttle had safely settled on the partially covered and heavily shielded landing platform. Only then was she able to escape the confines of the small craft.
Only for that relief to falter as, no sooner had she stepped into the sheltered vestibule off the landing pad, a small contingent of officers stood waiting for her.
"Welcome back, My Lady," one of them offered as, together, the handful of uniformed men nodded or outright bowed in greeting. Behind her the door rumbled shut, blocking off the choking heat and ominous glow that perpetually coloured Mustafar's landscape. Biting her tongue to hold back a grumble of impatience, she inclined her head fractionally in response, just enough that the gesture translated to the thick fabric of her hood. The officers took it as permission and, as she strode forward, parted before her to fall into step around her.
Commander Waelon, one of the senior Intelligence officers under Vader's direct command, positioned himself on her right while Lieutenant Adahn, one of the readiness officers that rotated through the minimal planet-side military presence that accompanied Vader to his Fortress, settled just off her left side. The other three that followed fell in discretely behind them.
Knowing very well that they would wait for her to indicate which she wished to hear reports from first, the two officers flanking her said nothing. Holding back an exasperated sigh that they always insisted on briefing her the instant she set foot inside the Fortress, she nevertheless forced herself to be attentive. She was, for the most part, the one they all went to with news and reports, her Master rather preferring his privacy and even outright isolation when holed up on Mustafar. Unless she was off on a mission and not available to serve as an intermediary should anything too pressing arise, the officers usually waited to deal with her directly, trusting in her discretion for deciding what merited Lord Vader's attention and what was of little consequence. It was the flicker of nervous anxiety that had little to do with her she sensed from Commander Waelon that finally made up her mind. With a tilt of her head that had her cowl dipping in Waelon's direction, she opted to hear the update from the Intelligence Officer first.
He nearly twitched with nerves at the move. When he was that nervous around her it usually meant he had intelligence that was at least interesting. At most, potentially critical.
Though not usually too critical, else he usually had the sense to go directly to her Master if she wasn't around. And since he had been waiting for her…
"Commander?" It was enough of a prompt that the grey-clad officer straightened almost imperceptibly before launching into his set of reports.
"A few curious and even concerning events have come to our attention since you were last briefed by my counterpart, Commander Eagan, aboard the Devastator. The first: we've received reports that there was a prison break at the Labour Camp on Wobani. Though several prisoners seem to have escaped, only one has eluded recapture, a Liana Hallik." Athara was severely tempted to roll her eyes at the intelligence Waelon decided to lead with. At least, that was until he continued. What he said next made it mildly interesting.
"What is concerning about this is that there are further reports that the breakout was orchestrated by the Rebellion. If Hallik was indeed the target of a rescue, we have yet to discern a motivation. We have people looking into who she is and her potential importance." Curious. Mulling over the information, Athara ceded to herself that it was something she would consider bringing before her Master. While unlikely anything of serious consequence—no one important ever got sent to Wobani—it was still curious that the Rebellion would devote a portion of their limited resources to breaking out one particular individual from a second-rate labour camp. If nothing else of great importance came to her attention, it could prove an entertaining investigation to pursue; at the very least, tricky or even challenging enough to make it mildly interesting.
And as he continued on through his list of 'curious events', as he termed them, it certainly seemed like the most interesting piece of intelligence Waelon had.
Until he hesitated as he was wrapping up his report, his anxiety level spiking in a way that had Athara actually turning to shoot the Commander a pointedly impatient look before returning her gaze to the path ahead of her. The fact that his nerves showed on his face and his hands were clutched tightly before him did little to reassure her.
"What is it, Commander," she finally bit out, her impatience growing when his hesitation showed little sign of abating. He actually jerked at the implied reprimand to her tone, his steps faltering for an instant before renewing his pace next to her. Athara couldn't help but frown at the uncertainty and traces of fear she suddenly sensed pouring off him, her irritation gradually turning to unease.
"Jedha City's been destroyed." It was so unexpected Athara couldn't quite contain her shock as she turned to face the Intelligence Officer, stopping so abruptly Lieutenant Adahn had to turn and retreat back to her side and the officers trailing them nearly collided with Athara and the Commander. She knew what was currently orbiting Jedha even if few others did, just as she knew Waelon had some idea by virtue of his position in Imperial Intelligence.
"Explain!" Sensing her agitation, Waelon shuffled nervously before complying, his dark eyes not quite able to look to where he knew her eyes hid beneath her cowl.
"Official reports claim it was a mining accident," it was then he paused again, and if Athara hadn't already had her suspicions, his hesitation certainly would have roused them; the Death Star's weapon was functional. She didn't need to say a word, the force of her stare enough to urge the officer to continue even if he couldn't see her face.
He visibly swallowed his nerves before speaking again. "But whispers from our forces coming out of the system suggest the—the new weapon is responsible. The devastation is said to be immense." Athara didn't doubt that, her stomach churning uneasily as the Force seemed to flutter with foreboding around her.
"My Lady, there's one more thing out of Jedha." If possible, her attention on the officer intensified, nearly causing Waelon to flinch. Thankfully, her attention as all the incentive he needed to continue.
"There has been a security breach, though the severity has yet to be determined. It appears that one of the supply pilots that runs between Jedha and Eadu may have defected." Athara felt cold, her anger sparking as watched Waelon pale beneath her scrutiny. "And rumour has it that he's intending to go to the Rebellion with the information."
"And what information would that be?"
"That the Empire is building a planet-killer."
Athara's stomach plummeted.
She needed to inform her Master.
A/N: And thus, the Companion Anthology Story to The Lady Adyé Trilogy has begun!
I'd really appreciate it if you'd take a moment to leave a review! :)
Questions, comments, exclamations of disbelief or approval, theories or grievances…all welcome! (so long as it's related to the story, of course :P) I imagine I'll be getting a few on a particular topic with this one….
May the Force be with you!