Disclaimer: Only the OCs are mine. Playing with Lucasfilm's characters, settings, and ultimate weapons of destruction, and will return them in undamaged condition!

Author's Note: Readers may note that Belesa is ever so slightly evil-Sueish, and a spoiled brat besides. Don't worry, I know, and it's okay.

I'm having a ball with this story. I'm not quite sure where it's going, but for me, it's as much fun as playing Star Wars on the school playground way back when. Onward!

Thanks to tfclvi for the corrections on this chapter!

Daughter of the Empire

"This is an unexpected honor, Your Grace. My parents will be so pleased."

Vader extended his hand in a courtly gesture. Belesa shivered before letting him help her to her feet. His black leather gloves were cold to the touch. "Miss Rynon, I am glad to see you well."

"My Lord." She curtseyed once more on stiff knees. Knowing the Sith was devoted to the Emperor, to peace and justice, did not diminish the power of his presence.

"This way, my Lord, if you please. Father will be anxious to greet you in person." The Sith Lord gestured to her, and with trembling awe, Belesa laid her palm on his gauntleted forearm.

Her awareness floated above the scene in a rush of disbelief and wonder. Most of the guests were timidly respectful, covering what had to be heart-clenching fear with careful correctness. There was nothing resembling fear in Leia Organa's childish face. Vader passed Leia silently, the trailing edge of his night-dark cloak sweeping across her feet.

"Lord Vader. What a privilege to welcome you into my home." The Councilor bowed, but neither as deeply nor for as long as his daughter had. Vader inclined his head with an ironic nod. Could a Sith Lord possess a sense of humor? If Belesa's childhood lessons were true, the Jedi most certainly had not.

"Our Master requested that I bring you his greetings. I also carry a message which I must relay to you in private."

"Yes, of course, Lord Vader. Please come into my study." Belesa's father stood tall and straight, yet he was made insignificant by the Sith Lord as they moved away.

After the study door whirred shut, the guests were hushed for a few moments, straining to hear Vader's voice. A woman in a pearl-colored gown murmured to her neighbor, and then, as if given permission, an excited babble broke out. Dara rushed to Belesa's side and pulled her into a corner near the dessert table.

Dara's forehead glistened with sweat. "What was that all about?"

"I was on my way to find you. Lord Vader was at the door. I showed him in." Belesa managed to sound casual as she reached for a chocolate éclair, but her hands were shaking enough for Dara to notice.

"I can't believe you can eat right now!"

"This is for my nerves." She took some comfort in the rich, cool filling and the dark chocolate taste of the icing. "These are delicious. I wonder where Mother ordered them."

"It's too bad Vader can never eat in public; I'm sure you'd enjoy serving him."

"Dara, what has gotten into you?"

Her friend looked guiltily toward the study door. "I have to go… I'm sorry. I hope I see you soon."

"But we were going to go out dancing!"

"I'll call you; I promise." Dara kissed her cheek and hurried to the valet for her coat. Not long afterward, Belesa saw the old professor leaving as well. She tried to catch him, but he pretended not to hear her.

Belesa finished the sweet pastry and wiped her fingers on a cloth napkin. A girl servant whisked it away almost before it dropped to the table.

"There she is!"

Belesa grimaced. An hour ago, she had been a figure of ridicule at the hands of Leia Organa, and now she found herself the target of fame-seekers. Perhaps Lord Vader's star had fallen a bit among the Governors, but not among the bureaucratic elite of Imperial City.

"Oh, wasn't he splendid?"

Belesa answered without thinking. "I hadn't expected Lord Vader to have such courtly manners when his daily occupation is to kill people."

The eager faces closed. Frightened eyes flicked to the study where Vader and her father remained closeted. Others stared back at her in shock.

Across the room, Senator Organa caught Belesa's eye for a moment; the tiniest shadow of a smile creased her girlish, round face. Mortification and fury gelled together in Belesa's gut, turning the chocolate éclair to a hard lump in her stomach.

After the Alderaanian delegation took its leave, Belesa quickly excused herself to find her mother. Lady Adreana straightened a half-full carafe on the wine table in a show of domesticity.

"Where did Dara go in such a hurry? I'd have thought Lord Vader would be very interested in learning about her research."

Belesa giggled at her mother's absurdity; her anger drained away. Adreana Rynon was just as smitten with the Sith Lord as any of her guests. "Dara has an early lecture in the morning. She works very hard."

"We're all proud of her." Lady Adreana's color remained high, and her blue eyes were brighter than Belesa had seen them in years.

Before the door to the Councilor's office was fully open, Vader stalked out. Lady Adreana sank to one knee in a billow of green, but Belesa was too startled to show respect. Vader's burnished black helmet caught the candlelight from the recessed sconces and reflected back a ghostly fire. Belesa bowed her head to hide her frightened face.

Vader's departure left the guests in silence. Finally a man in officer's grey dared to mutter something to his trembling wife. Speech spread hesitantly throughout the room. Belesa helped her mother back to her feet.

Larien Rynon leaned against the doorframe, his shoulders bent like a much older man. Belesa's heart beat painfully to see him unharmed.

His bright-plumaged wife slipped under his arm. "Larien, are you all right?"

"Of course." He squeezed her shoulder. "Lord Vader had some unsettling news."

"Father, he didn't threaten you!"

Councilor Rynon straightened too quickly to be believed and turned away from the sparkling night view of Imperial City. "No, child, whatever made you think that?"

"He left so quickly... I was afraid."

Belesa's father cupped her cheek in one hand, as he had when she was a little girl. "We have nothing to fear from Lord Vader. He is but a fellow servant of the Emperor, and our family serves well and faithfully. Whatever he commands, it is our honor to obey." Belesa was about to argue that her father had not answered her question, but her mother warned her off with a sharp look.

"Adreana, dear, please see to our guests. I'll set Belesa's mind at ease."

"Father, I wish you'd tell me what's going on."

The study doors closed behind them with a soft squeak. Councilor Rynon drew his daughter down beside him on a low leather sofa. It was too glossy to be comfortable and made his bony knees stick up awkwardly. "I'd hoped to tell you at a better time." Belesa opened her mouth to object. Larien chuckled. "When you stop reminding me you're a grown woman at every turn, then I'll truly believe it."

"And I'll believe it myself when you stop trotting out the same old rigmarole every time I start asking questions."

"Point taken." Her father leaned back and stretched his long arms along the back of the unyielding sofa. "The Empire is moving toward a new era of peace. I've been asked to speak to the Senators regarding a special project."

"I haven't heard of a special project."

"Yes, you've got a mid-level security clearance."

Belesa normally knew better than to press her father on such issues, but three glasses of Cambrian wine made her bolder than usual. "Father…"

"While I applaud the spirit of inquiry, I truly can't say another word about it... only that its construction gives me hope for lasting peace." Larien Rynon ruffled his daughter's short hair and levered himself up from the low, slippery couch. "Come, let's have a nightcap. You've been entirely too serious for this party."

"I shouldn't," Belesa giggled, reeling a little bit on her feet. "I'm afraid of scraping up my speeder again."

"You'll stay with us tonight. When we can face the light of day at last, we'll all go out for brunch."

Belesa hugged her father around the waist. He kissed her forehead before opening the study door. The remaining revelers were enjoying themselves; the Trandoshan keyboard player turned up the volume to match. A young Palace functionary caught Belesa by the hand and pulled her into the center of the floor to dance.

By Monday morning, Dara still had not called. Belesa wasn't worried: sometimes her friend forgot to charge her comlink. She spent more time than usual at her datascreen, flicking idly between news sites on the Holonet. She wasn't sure what she was looking for: something to explain her restlessness, to banish the image of Lord Vader striding out of her father's study with his polished helmet shining in the dim candlelight and the ghost of fire hovering just behind him.

The comm tinkled softly in the outer office. "Miss Rynon, it's Captain Hedron of the Army Supply Unit. Shall I put him through?"

Perplexed, Belesa picked up the call. Hedron was an older Corellian officer and a friend of her department head, Admiral Grey. Hedron rarely asked for her. "Captain?"

"Finally I've got a human being on the comm. Belesa Rynon? Larien's little girl?"

"Assistant Director Rynon," she blandly replied. It wasn't a new technique to gain her attention. "How may I assist you, Captain?"

"No need to be sniffy, Miss Rynon. Glad you took my call. Your boss won't. I meant to say – what in the Wookiee's hairy armpit is going on?"

"I don't quite know what you mean."

"Had any contractors call to complain their money wasn't coming?"

Belesa started at the number of unread messages in her inbox, all with "Urgent" flashing. "Now that you mention it -"

"I want to know exactly why my purchase orders haven't been approved. Accounts Payable says they've been deauthorized. I've got to feed fifty thousand troops a day in this sector alone!" The Corellian's voice cracked. "They've been making me look like an ass all morning long! Kept telling them it must be some colossal foul-up at Procurement!"

Belesa felt faint. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Captain."

"Calling your dad right about now?" asked Hedron shrewdly.

"Good day, Captain." Belesa stared down at her datascreen. Her inbox flooded with howls and shrieks from suppliers and purchasing officers alike. The sensible course would be to talk to the Admiral first, but Belesa dialed her father.

"Councilor Rynon isn't available." Her father's Gungan-faced assistant seemed to take pleasure in the news. "Gone on a tour this morning. He won't be back until teatime at the earliest."

"All right, fine!" Belesa pulled her personal comlink out of her purse and stabbed at her father's secret access code.

"What's happening to my purchase orders?" She couldn't keep the rage out of her voice.

Her father took a moment to answer. "His Excellency has redirected all non-essential funds to a crucial project. It must be completed in the next six months, then everything will be back to normal."

"Back to normal!" Belesa nearly shrieked. "Non-essential funds? There are two hundred and seventy-six messages from my clients! There are thousands upon thousands of soldiers and civilians who won't be getting their supplies! What could be so blasted important as feeding the troops?"

"The Death Star."

"It's true, then."

Her father clicked off, and when Belesa tried to call him back, the comlink was powered down.

Admiral Grey took the news surprisingly well. "I think it's time to cash in our vacation time. Have you been to Mon Calamari?"

"The squid heads won't save me now," said the Admiral with a fatalistic laugh. "You, either, despite your fortunate connections."

"The Death Star won't wait."

"I heard there were already two hundred thousand on board."

"But it's not even finished!"

Even inside their office walls, the Emperor was listening. Belesa put her feet up and opened another packet of biscuits. She needed to refuel before she received any more nasty surprises. "Someone's got to call all our suppliers and ask them to front four weeks' worth of food and essential items. The rest we can put on hold."

Admiral Grey smiled thinly. "You've just appointed yourself to the job, Miss Rynon. Good luck."

Twelve hours later, Belesa left the office. She put in subspace calls in all over the galaxy, pleading to be forwarded a month's worth of supplies, with the promise of exclusive contracts and bonuses to those who acquiesced. She had the worst time with the Hutts – and why the Empire had so many food service contracts with organized crime, she didn't want to know.

When Belesa keyed open the door of her flat in the Kitera Towers, her father was waiting in the living room. He hadn't been home to change; his velvet courtier's robes were rumpled.

"Father?"

"I thought you might be working late. Incidentally, my dear, His Excellency is quite pleased with your ingenuity."

"And how would that be?" Belesa was too exhausted to be anything but completely honest. Kicking off her uncomfortable shoes, she waved in the direction of the housekeeping droid. The droid's pincers extended, gently grasping the discarded footwear and rolling silently into the bedroom.

"It might be considered embarrassing for the Empire not to be able to pay its own bills."

"I didn't mean it like that," Belesa said with sudden horror.

"That's why His Excellency appreciated your ingenious problem-solving. A catastrophic system failure?"

Belesa closed her eyes, half ashamed of herself. "I took your admin password and hacked around in there. I don't even know half of what I did."

"How long will it take to reprogram it?"

"About a week and a half. If they fix it too quickly, I'll get back in there and break it again." She had hidden the backup tapes in the refresher unit in her office. Nobody would look there, and after enough time had passed, she could destroy the copy.

Councilor Rynon laughed. "If Propaganda only had your special talents..."

"Then we wouldn't be sitting here talking about covering up for the Death Star."

Her father's jovial mood ended suddenly. "Belesa, I never want to hear those words again. Promise me."

"I don't even know what it does, Father. It's a planet-size thing that can support half a million troops. Is it the biggest troop transport ever? Is it a warship? I don't even know, but I've spent my entire day destroying my professional reputation for this thing, maybe even my career."

"It has to be worth it, child." Her father gripped her shoulders hard in both hands. "Emperor Palpatine expects it of me… and of you as well."

"The Emperor spoke to you about me?" Belesa saw the fear in her father's round face, and she didn't press him any further.

"The Empire is paramount. How we serve isn't really our choice." Larien Rynon bowed his head in exhaustion. "I haven't seen His Excellency in person in five years."

"What?"

"Only Lord Vader himself and the Red Guards are allowed in his chambers… and the Hands." Her father shifted in his seat. "He's growing older, sacrificed the strength of his body to preserve order. The Jedi nearly ruined him at the end of the Clone Wars… we are very fortunate he survived. The strain of this rebellion has worn on him. I don't think he leaves the inner sanctum. He prefers to spend his days in meditation and to speak to us by hologram. His presence- " her father rubbed his throat and swallowed. "It's unmistakable."

"I know." Belesa herself had only been in the Emperor's throne room once, presented at the age of seven with all the sons and daughters of courtiers and close advisors. Palpatine had laid a gnarled hand on her head and pronounced her a daughter of the Empire, then predicted a long and fruitful life in his service.

Once in a great while, a child presented to the Emperor might even be taken into his personal service, but no one knew what befell him or her. Belesa remembered suddenly that at her own Presentation, her mother had wept; at the time, she thought it was from joy.

"Father, I'm tired. I really need to go to bed."

"I'll let myself out." The Councilor raised a tired hand. Belesa dropped down beside him on the couch and held him tightly.

"Be safe, Father."

"The Emperor's hand shelters us all."