Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.
Warnings: References to torture.
The Tyranny of Kinship
Chapter 3
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 what motivated him to kill a man who had become a respected colleague. One of the few that Vader had.
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, sentenced to death, and Vader all but powerless to stop it. His only chance to save her was at that moment, he knew, and he hadn't thought any further than that. If the choice was between Tarkin and his daughter, then Tarkin had to die. Leia was far more valuable an asset, and only slightly more of a threat.
Despite his initial hesitation, however, there was an undeniable satisfaction in having ended the existence of his long-time acquaintance. Some grudges were enduring indeed, even if they did come from a former life.
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 them 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 the 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. She was as good a shot as Padme had been.
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 the shuttle that would be missed the least. It had fairly decent specs, for all that its appearance was decidedly modest. His own shuttle, with its 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 he knew was not yet integrated into the Imperial framework.
And then they were flying away from everything that Vader had built for the last two decades: his flagship, 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, 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, she thought.
"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, teasing apart the threads of probability to get some hint of future outcomes.
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 he 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. "May the Force be with you" was a familiar and treasured prayer, passed down to her by her parents. 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 change. 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 now evident Force potential hadn't occurred 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, now. 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.
