A.N.: Sorry it took me so long to update, but I was hit with a massive writer's block. Thanks and credits at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 5

"You may rise, my friend."

Tarkin got to his feet again and looked at the man he had created the administrative side of the Empire for. The white, decaying skin was barely visible in the dim lightening, but he had to suppress a shudder anyway.

"Tell me about this young woman," the Emperor said, leaning back in his throne.

"Yes, your majesty. She's my daughter. Livia had hidden her from me when she fled during the purges. I thought they had both died."

"How did she manage to elude us?"

"She went to Myrkr."

"Ah yes, of course. The Yslamiri shielded her from Vader's senses. Now, what should we do about her, my friend? She's Force sensitive; I felt her little temper tantrum earlier this day. I'm afraid she's a danger."

Tarkin swallowed. He didn't like the direction this conversation was going. He stared into the sickly yellow eyes of the Emperor.

"But she could also be an asset if properly trained, your majesty. She is still young and impressionable."

"Certainly, but she was raised on Alderaan. Something should be done of this breeding place of rebellion and treachery."

Tarkin shrugged artfully.

"She needs a good teacher then, one who can convince her to follow the right path."

"Very well, I shall meditate about this. You may leave now."

Tarkin bowed deeply and left. He would contact his daughter again in a few days.

*****

Ananké sat in her new flat, listlessly sipping at a cup of tea. Her new quarters were spacey and high over the clouds, which gave her brilliant light for painting, but they felt even less like home than her cramped two-room flat.

She sighed. What a mess. On her second visit Tarkin had calmly informed her that her current living arrangements were no longer suitable for her new position, but that he couldn't't let her live in his palace either, bastard daughter that she was. His wife may be offended. Ananké supposed that she should be grateful for that, this way she didn't need to see him every day he was on Coruscant.

He had also allowed her to continue painting, as it would seem strange were she suddenly to stop. Ananké was grateful for that too, it gave her a means to vent her frustrations by illustrating another myth, which was not as light-hearted as the last. A good thing that Therana was the daughter of a Moff, so she was deemed a suitable companion and was allowed to continue to visit her.

The other arrangements were not so positive though. Every third day she would be brought to the Imperial Palace to receive lessons from Lord Vader. He was rumoured to be vicious and quick to anger, and he had killed people for merely looking at him the wrong way.

Another twice a week course was in self-defence and etiquette by some shady imperial agent she didn't even know the name of yet. And she'd have to live with bodyguards now, since political enemies could see her as a promising target. Tarkin hadn't named Ysanne Isard, but Ananké was sure that she was whom he meant. Among others.

How nice and easy everything had been on Alderaan. Idly she wondered if this was what Estiphe had meant when she had said this planet would stain her soul.

*****

He really had no time for this. No time and no patience. First his master had ordered him to help Tarkin with that pet project of his, and now he was supposed to train his bastard daughter who had suddenly popped up and seemed to have some Force sensitivity. As if there wasn't anything more important than that. For example these rebels that spread like vermin. Or the various criminal organisations that sucked the life out of whole planets like leeches. Not to mention their employment of slavers.

He detested slavers.

But no, training this silly little girl, he had heard she was an artist of all things, was more important than that. Well, she'd better measure up.

Or else.

With this thought Darth Vader rounded the last corner and entered the training room to meet his new student.

She was gazing out of a window but turned when she heard the sound of his respirator. She swallowed and eyed him warily. So she didn't know how to act. He smiled thinly behind his mask. Influencing her would be much easier if he could keep her off balance. He decided to just stand there and stare at her for a while, people tended to find that unnerving because they couldn't see his face. Little did they know that they would be even more flustered if they could.

Just as he thought, it took barely one minute and the scrawny little creature started fidgeting.

Pathetic.

"So you are here to become a Sith," he rumbled.

"I g … guess so, m … my Lord."

And a stutter on top of that. Just what was the Emperor thinking? He unhooked a lightsaber from his belt and threw it at her.

"Do you even know what that is?"

She caught it and swallowed.

"A … a lightsaber."

Vader made a movement with his hand and a little practising droid lifted itself from a shelf and floated towards them.

"It's set to mild stun. Defend yourself."

*****

Ananké fumbled with the switch for a while, never letting the little hovering ball out of her sight. For something so little it had a surprising air of menace.

Ah, so there was the blade and it was orange. How to go about this? It occurred to her that the chances of fending off the little bugger would rise if she held the blade between it and herself.

She swallowed.

Suddenly the droid let off a little laser beam. She tried to catch it with her lightsaber, but simply wasn't fast enough. A searing pain shot through her left thigh.

"Ouch!"

That was what Vader called a mild stun?

She turned back to the droid.

It shot its laser beams and Ananké couldn't stop them. And Vader wasn't offering any advice. She was growing more and more frustrated until she wasn't thinking anymore and with a shout of anger threw her lightsaber at the diabolical thing.

It was split cleanly in two halves that fell to the floor in front of her. But the most curious thing was that she could see the droid die even before the blade had left her hand.

Ananké looked rather dumbly at the now deactivated handle of the lightsaber flying an elegant arc and returning into Vader's hand.

"It took you long enough to finally touch the Force. But since your powers seem to be mediocre at best, this is hardly surprising. Meditate on it until next time," the Sith Lord rumbled, turned on his heel and left.

Suddenly she felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut and she collapsed to the hard floor. She felt something in her cry out in pain and confusion.

And something answered back.

Something silent and soothing that loosened her muscles that had drawn up under the stunning bolts from the practising droid and calming her anger at being hurt for no reason.

Something she knew but couldn't remember.

As suddenly as it had been there it was gone again, but she felt much better. Slowly she stood and made her way home.

When she was back in her flat she dropped into an armchair and tried to mull things over. This just didn't add up. Vader wanted her to be furious. Well, she had only been able to touch the Force when she was angry. Was it like that? She doubted it; the presence that had helped her after Vader had been gone hadn't felt angry at all. So maybe there was something that Vader didn't want her to find out about the Force. And how productive could anger be in a fight anyway? She supposed it was like discussing. You could win by shouting the other down or you could try to stay detached and use your logic.

Ananké sighed. She had never been one to shout, and as it seemed Vader wanted her to do just that. She wished she had somebody to talk to who knew about these things.

She went over to her desk and found her com terminal blinking; Therana had left a message to invite her to a party at her home.

Sounds like fun. And I desperately need a distraction.

*****

Now why exactly did I come here?

Ananké stood next to a small fountain sipping on her second glass of wine (from Alderaan of course) after having been introduced to dozens of people who didn't deem her worthy to talk to. That may have been because Therana had omitted her parentage, but that was how she would have preferred it anyway. No way she would say anything just for being fawned over by people who would just try to get on Tarkin's good side. She idly wondered if there was such a thing.

"Would you mind if I joined you?"

Ananké looked up into a gently smiling face with earnest eyes. Of course she knew who that was, who on Alderaan didn't.

"No, please do, your Highness."

"Thank you. I visited your exhibition today. Your work is really remarkable, my favourite is the painting of Crevasse City. You used local soils to paint it, didn't you," Princess Leia asked.

"Yes, that's right. Crevasse City is very earthy, like her people, so I thought it appropriate. "

 "Winter liked the Lyrill Mistweaver cycle very much," the princess said mentioning towards a young woman near them who immediately came closer. Ananké had to hide a grin behind her glass. This woman had the otherworldly beauty and the long white hair of the mythic entity. Winter reached out her hand and Ananké shook it.

"Nice to meet you. If I ever need a model for another fable about Lyrill, I'll ask you, if you don't mind," Ananké said smiling.

Winter returned her smile but stayed silent.

"You haven't been her for long, haven't you? How do you like Imperial Center?"

"Well, your Highness, I already wish that I had never left Alderaan," Ananké said grimacing.

Princess Leia raised her perfect eyebrows.

"Well, it's noisy and filthy, no trees, no grass, no flowers. Only people in various degrees of obnoxiousness," she quickly added.

"Not to mention this revelation about your father, no?"

Ah, so that was what it was about. Her father, her father. She sighed.

"I try not to think too much about that."

The princess just nodded.

"You'll have to be very careful. Many will see you as their enemy because you're from Alderaan. Others will try to use you and pull you into dangerous power games."

Time to drop the mask, I think.

"And what are you trying to do?"

"What do you mean?"

Ananké sighed again.

"Like all good politicians you have ideals but also a practical mind that recognises advantages and knows how to use them. There's no shame in that, the question is what you use said advantages for. So I ask you, what do you want?"

Princess Leia's smile turned slightly grim.

"Well, good artists seem to have that practical mind too. All right. I think you know that the situation of Alderaan is growing continually worse. First we had to disband our fleet. Then came the planetary weaponry. Just this morning came the order to deactivate and dismantle the planetary shield! The senate has voted for sending political counsellors to our universities, which are one of the last bastions of free thinking in the galaxy. They want to take away everything that makes us who we are. I just ask you to stay true to your roots and maybe help me to save our identity by making people see what they are about to loose. And if you happen to hear something of interest let me know."

"You want me to spy for you."

"No! I wouldn't want you to endanger yourself. Just keep a close ear to the grapevine when you attend parties and other social events."

Ananké nodded.

"I suppose I can do that. I've made no secret about my homesickness, so I don't think anyone will see anything strange if I seek your company. Or Winter's. I think that might be even better."

"Yes, your Highness. Nobody will pay me much attention, since I'm just your aide."

It was the first time that Ananké had heard her speak, and she was captivated by the clear, velvety alto that came from the solemn woman. It suited her.

"So it's a plan. You should meet sometime to become better acquainted."

Both dignitaries said their goodbyes and left Ananké standing alone again. She shrugged, took another glass from a passing waiter and continued to watch the people milling about.

"You really should change your taste in companions, Miss Inverres."

Ananké almost dropped her glass from the shock of a smooth voice speaking behind her.

She turned around and looked into a pair of already familiar glowing red eyes.

"Good evening, Admiral."

He was in uniform this time, which made him look even colder. Besides, the dull green didn't go well with the pale blue colour of his skin.

"That empty headed chit that's constantly flitting around you is bad enough. But the Senator of Alderaan who is said to have connections to the rebels is right out dangerous."

"And you are about to suggest an alternative, I assume," Ananké asked unable to take the sarcasm out of her voice. And she tried. Really.

Thrawn just smiled and lifted his hands in a humble gesture.

"I merely offer my advice."

"Well there are only empty headed or dangerous people in this place. Some are even both."

"But if you are in league with the likes of the Senator somebody could label you a danger and have you assassinated."

Ananké shrugged and emptied her glass.

"Well, in that case you should buy some of my paintings, because they'll raise in value in the event of my death."

He said nothing, just raised his left eyebrow.

Ananké threw her arms up in defeat.

"All right, all right, I get the message. I have partaken of the wine too much, I shall hie myself home."

Thrawn turned slightly and offered her his arm.

"Then allow me to escort you," he drawled keeping the tone of her jest.

Ananké hesitated for a moment, but after the events of this day she just couldn't bring herself to care and delicately placed her hand into the crook of his arm.

A.N.:   Neila: you are my hero. Thank you for your encouragement and the betaing. I'd be lost without you.

            chris steel: you inspired me with your stories and kind words, couldn't resist giving a little nod towards your story "Favours". Spotted it? Oh, and don't worry, Thrawn will get pretty menacing later, he just didn't have any reason to be yet.

Yaebginn: The mother thing was hinted at in the prologue, but I'm glad I could surprise you. Not so sure about action scenes though, I'm just crap at writing those.

Kimara: Thrawn and Ananké? I don't know if that's such a good idea…

Schehezerade: Thank you! I stumbled about that thing with Ackbar on coincidence. Went to the official Star Wars site to look up Tarkin. Clicked on some other charas I liked (but didn't plan to include) and found out about Ackbar's time as Tarkin's personal slave. So there was no way I could leave that out, besides - it's fantastic conflict material!

And Xizor is an interesting guy too. Could stir up lots of trouble and get away with it. I've always liked sly-evil villains, and in the first trilogy there was only cold-evil (Vader), yucky/dumb-evil (Jabba) and crazy-evil (Palpatine).

Jedi Princess2: Yeah, Mary-Sues are terrible things to menace the fiction writing… I just wanted to create a chara who is not as cool as the other heroes. Well, OK, Luke is pretty un-cool too the (way he just screams "country-bumpkin"… I've always liked that).

Dragonsdaughter1: Thank you. Well, coming from Alderaan Ananké knows pretty well that the Imps aren't the good guys. But since she's just an artist and not a fighter she doesn't see any alternative then to duck her head and endure. And let's face it, there's only very few people who are hero material.