III

Her body tensed again and her eyes widened.

Darth Vader? she asked herself. The Dark Sith Lord?

She had heard stories about him, but not many. However, the few ones she had heard were terrifying. Several shivers ran down her spine. His figure was so bold, so confident. He was analysing her, his thumbs resting on his belt. The sound of his mechanical breathing was the only thing heard, since she was afraid to make any noise, almost even too afraid to breathe.

But she regained her normal self soon enough, after having realized that he could have killed her a long time ago if he had wanted to. He could have killed her when she raised her voice and complained about her treatment. She relied on that to keep herself calm and not panic.

"What you did out there was rather impressive," he spoke, breaking the silence. Even though she had controlled her fear, she could not bring herself to talk. For that reason, she simply thanked his compliment by nodding. "...but dangerous, nonetheless. Especially with such a primitive machine as yours."

She blinked a few times, before realizing he was talking about her ship. Yes, it was indeed a very old model, but she had made improvements to it by herself. She noted his weird way with words; not having heard people speak standard for a long time, she was not used to formal ways of speaking anymore. Tatooine was not really the place for 'nobility' or high-class people.

"It's not as if I had something to lose..." she said, looking at her ship. "I've actually been looking for various methods of dying gloriously." She looked back at him and noticed how weird that phrase had sounded to her.Had she managed to imitate 'education'?

"And what would the reason for that be?"Vader asked. She shrugged and turned around, lazily walking towards a bench at the other end of the room.

Her phrase had formed inside her head. "I prefer that to dying as an insignificant slave!" she said, louder, and studied the ceiling. He had not followed her. She sat on the bench, folding her legs towards her body. Vader walked around the hangar, as if searching for something. Not wanting to interrupt him, she watched him in silence. He did not bother to ask her, so she did not feel the need to help him. Somehow, it was amusing to see him walk around so nonchalantly, inspecting.

The gate to her starfighter opened in front of him. She narrowed her eyes, thinking her mind was playing her tricks. But no, there he stood, waiting for the gate to open and casually just walking inside. How did he do that? she asked herself. It had been locked, she was sure of that.

Not many moments passed until Vader exited. "I have used the transmitter on your ship to communicate my coordinates to the Empire."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're welcome," she added sarcastically, but realized immediately that her rudeness had irritated him, as she closed her mouth. The heavy steps he took towards her only contributed to assure her of that feeling. He stopped in front of her.

"You do have an enormous death wish, I observe."

The tension was growing, but she did not dare say one word. She had already done enough to book herself a free ticket to Hell. He tilted his head to the side and rose two fingers in front of her. Then he stopped suddenly. "However, I am not going to grant you it."

He turned around and walked towards the edge of the hangar. It was hidden in a cliff, watching over Mos Eisley. She smirked, having found and regained power over her voice. "Why not?" Insisting did not sound like a good idea, but like she had said before... what did she have to lose? Unfortunately, her question was completely ignored by Vader, who was standing at the margin of the platform, gazing over the 'armpit of the galaxy', as the settlement used to be called.

"Who do you serve?" he asked, after several moments of silence.

Her face pinched in concentration as the image of her master invaded her mind. "Voroll Pohar, merchant." He was a tall, imposing man. Or that was the general impression he liked to give. She had spied several times on him, and also caught him in some of his better days, showing her signs of kindness sometimes. Her job was just to clean his home, prepare meals and deal with his annoying 3-years old son. Kiandra, his wife, had died during childbirth. "He's a sad man," she said, more as to herself.

"Your master does not treat you with brutality, yet you prefer to die than serve him?" Darth Vader had turned around to face her before asking the question. It made her feel somewhat ridiculous.

It took a while for her to find the right words. They kept slipping everytime she had to explain herself. Meanwhile, her conversation partner began slowly stepping towards her, again. She talked only after he had stopped walking. "Judging by the way I got here in the first place... yes. Take a seat." A miserable failure of trying to be polite, since the words came out as if she had been blackmailed to do it. Even so, he ignored her invitation as he had done with her gutsy question.

The silence was a sign she ought to have started her story. "Tatooine is not my home planet. I was not born here... I was born on Amalthea, as legal successor of the throne. My mother's throne. We were the Tyree dynasty." Her eyes had wandered around the hangar, trying to find her words, but she stopped. She wanted to see the Dark Lord's expression, but his mask made it impossible. "My older brother was avid of power, and jealous of me. He... he knew I would become the next Queen. He also knew that he could be passed my place only in case I died. I was only ten years old when he lured me to go on a 'trip' with him."

Pause. She was unsure whether she should have given more details, or mention that Amalthea could only be ruled by a queen. Oh, how she sucked at telling stories.

"Continue."

"He took me here and sold me to the first person that crossed his path. I did not realize that until I watched him leave with his spaceship..."

No sign of continuation was offered by her, giving Vader the occasion to intrude with a question, "And your mother had nothing to say about it?"

"I don't think she ever found out. M-My brother sold me for...," her voice trailed off. It was too morbid, and it made her feel horrible. However, she found the strength to continue, "He sold me for a corpse. He probably incinerated it so it wouldn't be recognized anymore... a-and told everybody I died in an accident"

They both pondered on the story. She was trying her best to keep any emotion away from herself, and also keep a neutral expression. There was no point in trying to impress Big Heavy Breather, especially not by acting like a weakling. She had gotten used to her situation, and had stopped crying on it a long time ago. Simply, there was no way of escaping her destiny.

Silence invaded the hangar again. Her gaze was directed to the floor, not wanting to meet his. It was a shameful story. A story of decadence. However, Vader was conscious that his situation was also shameful. How would he like the galaxy know he had almost been defeated in a battle, and saved by a mere slave on Tatooine? He had been known to be fearful. People should fear him. Failure was not supposed to be associated with him for no reason.

"I propose a deal," his determined voice broke the silence.

She raised her eyes in confusion, and met the blackness of his mask. "What... deal?" her voice came out shaky.

"You shall not mention my failure in that battle ever again, and I shall help you regain your throne."

After having swallowed and digested the information, she blinked a few times. "You know, it would be simpler to just kill me."

Well, that had been stupid. But it was the truth.

"I have already told you I am not going to grant you that death wish."

The conversation seemed awfully out of place. She started to feel uneasy, and confusion grew wider and wider in her mind. Why in the world would he do that? The need to repeat the question ignored earlier visited her, but she repelled it. "I cannot understand why you would do that."

He bent so she would stare directly into the blackness of his mask. The sound of his breathing was terribly frightening that loud. Every detail could be heard. He slightly tilted his head to the side, making her understand she had started to get on his nerves. "Amalthea is close to Coruscant. The Empire could make use of it."

Questions started to appear. Why didn't he want to kill her? It would have been the most simple solution, and most particular to him, judging by those stories she had heard about him. Did he feel the need to reward her? After all, how could he be sure she wouldn't say anything about her saving him? It is human nature to brag about something, and after all... only 'dead men told no tales'.

An imperial shuttle had been dispatched and landed near her ship and his destroyed TIE fighter. Several men, who she later found out were the real stormtroopers, filled the hangar and escorted the Dark Lord inside. Two of them had grabbed her by her wrists and forced her to walk inside. Somehow, she felt more like a prisoner than a future queen.

The engines started, and the men holding her forced her to stay behind Vader. She started to inquire everything, casting her eyes upward. Why did he believe her? How did he know she had told the truth? Hadn't it been too easy? Maybe I'm dreaming, she thought.

"You're not," Vader murmured. Her mouth slightly opened in awe.

Oh. So that's how.

Turning her head to the windows beside her, the destination ship could be sighted. An enormous, arrow-like ship. It was the biggest thing she had ever seen.