A/N: I forgot to state at the start of the last chapter that this story follows events as portrayed in the novel "Death Star." Which includes the first official test of the Death Star's superweapon shortly before its use on Alderaan. Many thanks to Malicean for pointing out how my last chapter could have been confused with the destruction of Alderaan. Hopefully this next chapter makes things a bit more clear. :)

Thanks again for all the reviews, follows, private messages and favorites. Special shout out to Malicean, Hoplite39, and Admiral Mitthrawnuruodo for the wonderful reviews. Super special shout out to Hoplite39 for the use of trooper RC-5342 and the order number system in Loyal soldier of the Empire - Journal of an Imperial Stormtrooper. It's an amazing story that I highly recommend!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs. Please do not sue. This is purely for fun.


The planet's name had been Despayre. Had been. As in past tense. Because there wasn't a planet anymore. There was nothing but a debris could of shattered rock and the ghosts of so many lives lost.

It didn't matter to me that Despayre had been a prison planet—the worse prison planet in the galaxy. Only those that had committed the most monstrous of offenses were sentenced to die down there, where even the atmosphere could turn toxic in a heartbeat. Beasts of all manner of nightmares had roamed the forest, the vegetation itself poisonous by turns depending on the season of the year. Being sent there was only slightly worse than being sold into slavery and shipped to the spice mines of Kessel.

Only slightly worse.

But there had been political prisoners down there, too. People like Leia and, I now had to admit, Andryl, that spoke out peacefully against our beloved Emperor, exercising their rights as sentients with free will. It didn't matter that their opinions and beliefs were misguided, that they sought to topple the very thing that gave them those rights and the comfortable lives they lead. They had been people that had thought they were doing the proper thing. People who didn't deserve that kind of death, but were forced to endure it anyway.

People who were nothing more than floating particles, as dead as the dreams they had hoped to make reality.

I strode down the hallways with a furious purpose, my escort keeping pace with sharp strikes of their boots. It was almost as if they shared my anger, my outrage. So much so that they had become a living extension of myself, a shadow of the white-hot rage boiling in my blood. I no longer cared that they were there, or what they were about to witness. I did not care that Layla was likewise furious in my quarters, angrily packing her things. I'd dismissed her from my service for her part in this entire travesty of events, for calling those officers to us. For having Andyrl kicked off the station before he was even conscious.

It's amazing what a good dose of pure undiluted anger could do to a person, regardless of the fact that this sudden fury may very well be another withdraw symptom of the drug. Another manic flipping of my emotion switch as my brain tried in vain to readjust to its natural patterns. What mattered in that moment was that the emotion gave me focus, a stronger cleanser to the soul than anything I'd ever known, washing away doubt on a raw tide of resentment.

For so long I'd hidden from my place in the galaxy, buried my head in the proverbial sands of ignominy thinking that someone else would handle things, would clean up the messes of the galaxy at large. Thinking to myself that one person wasn't important enough to affect a galaxy of billions and trillions of lives. I had been wrong about that. Uncle was but one man, and I knew down in the marrow of my bones that he'd willingly had that entire planet blown to bits.

But kriff it, I was a Motti. My blood was just as pure and noble as his. And if I wasn't going to step up to my birthright and fix what I saw was wrong, then who would?

My only wish was that Andryl was here to see this. But he was gone now, his ship and his entourage having hit lightspeed three hours ago. I doubted that Andryl was even conscious when it happened, and for once I was glad that Colonel Veers had laid him out. For once I was glad that my best friend had lost his mind and struck the Colonel first. Provoked or unprovoked, it mattered little now. Andy was spared the knowledge that I now had.

Stars, I could still see it behind my eyes. The first volley from the Death Star striking the planet, causing the whole thing to glow green for a heartbeat. For a moment, a single solitary moment, nothing happened. So much so that General Bast faltered in his rush to take me wherever it was he was told to take me. We both stared out a tiny viewport, watching. Waiting. Praying.

Across the horizon of the planet, a thin grayish shadow began to emerge, slithering like a poisoned slimy mist across the sky. "Goddess preserve," Bast had muttered, lowering me back to my feet, his eyes as riveted to that viewport as my own.

The mist built upon itself, becoming like dead waxy skin that devoured the clouds. Here and there red blotches appeared, bright hot flashes like weeping sores in that festering hide. Volcanic eruptions, I would learn later. The Death Star's main weapon had only been charged to a small percent, but that was enough to unbalance the core of the planet, causing earthquakes and tsunamis and shifting plate tectonics violent enough to sterilize the entire surface of the planet. The clouds were grey to our eyes, but only from above. Below, the very air burned like liquid flame, spewing up the fumes in a grey shroud of death.

All life died within minutes. Nothing could have survived in the toxic soup the environment had become.

But it wasn't over. And there was no use shielding me from the events to come, now that I had seen the true purpose of this so-called "battle station for the Emperor's Peace."

I was standing on a death machine. A tomb maker. An instrument of utter sorrow rather than a station of order and stability.

Bast stood with me, with my escorts, for the hour it took to charge the station for another blast. The first shot had only been at one third of the power that those generators could create, the very generators near which Martio and I had shared that wonderful lunch, watching the lights flicker on like a thousand stars. I had thought it romantic and beautiful, a bit of the universe that was forever ours alone. Now… now I wanted to tear out my eyes to make this horror stop.

The second shot cracked the grey skin of the planet, peeling it away to show the raw red lava, the life blood of the planet, pouring from kilometer wide cracks in its crust. Turning the planet red all over. Another hour would pass as the planet burned before our eyes. Before the batteries charged again, and the final shot was fired.

And Despayre was no more.

And now I burned instead. Raged. And I didn't give a kriff who saw it.

"I will stop you," Moradmin Bast said simply, easily. Without a hint that my hurried pace had winded him in the slightest. Apparently recovering all that precious Imperial dignity now that the shock and horror had faded. "You may go where you wish, but only to a point."

I flicked a glance his way, not bothering to slow my step. "You may try."

"I will succeed, if only for your protection."

"Really? My protection? Is that what you call what you did to me when you carried me out of that room?"

"Yes."

That had me pulling to a sudden halt. Thankfully one of the troopers serving as my escort had guarded me before, because he/she raised a hand and signaled the other to stop before he ran right into me. I ignored it, balling my hands into fists and planting them on my hips. Glaring at the General before me.

"You consider lying to me a protection?"

"I consider following my orders to shield you from unpleasantness as a protective action, yes."

"If my brother or uncle wanted to keep me from the truth of this place, they shouldn't have turned it into my personal prison."

I slapped my palm forward, intending to call for the next diplomatic lift. His gloved hand caught mine before I could get close to it.

"Your uncle and brother love you, Miss Motti," he said evenly. "And because I would not see that relationship damaged in a display of temper, I will not allow you to call upon them now."

"You have no say over anything I do, General. Now stand aside."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that. To be absolutely clear, my lady, I have my orders."

"Orders?" I lifted both eyebrows at that, a perfect imitation of Uncle's bored indifference. "Let us discuss orders, shall we? Trooper," I said, turning to the one on my right. "What is your designation?"

"RC-5342, Miss Motti."

"And what order are you operating under, RC-5342?"

"Order 0000A(JM), Miss Motti."

"Correct me if I am wrong, but that means you are to protect me from all harm, even harm I may bring to myself."

"Yes, Miss Motti."

I pinned General Bast with a hard cold stare. "If I were to tell you that this man before me was going to cause me great harm if he continued to remain in my presence, what would be your response?"

There was more than sadistic satisfaction in my smile as I watched Moradmin Bast's eyes widen fractionally, a tiny drop of sweat escaping the rim of his cap. RC-5342 and his/her companion did something to their E-11's that made a familiar charging sound, as if preparing to fire.

"Understand something, General," I seethed. "I have seen the death of tens of thousands today. You witnessed it with me. Whether or not my uncle and brother wished me to witness it is now irrelevant. I've seen it. I know what this floating atrocity to the galaxy can do. The only reason I've tolerated your presence thus far today is that you were just as horror-struck as I at how Despayre was destroyed.

"I gather from your expression that you are not the one that issued Order 0000A(JM), and from that I can reasonably estimate that you know exactly what these two loyal soilders of the Empire will do to you if I so ask them," I continued, hands folded pleasantly at my waist. "So I will state this again: I am going to see my uncle and brother. If you want to mitigate the damage to our relationship as you so eloquently put it, you can come with me. Otherwise, I'll let these troopers do what they do best to keep you from me. Am I absolutely clear, General?"

To his credit, he regained some of his composure. Not all of it, but some. Enough to stand at full attention and pin me with a contemplative expression of all things. For some reason, it reminded me of the way Grand Admiral Thrawn stared at me in that hidden art gallery.

"I will accompany you, Miss Motti," he said at last. "You will not find me barring the way. I can see at last what the Grand Admiral sees in you."

I scoffed. "I doubt that. My relationship with Admiral Batch is none of your concern."

Surprisingly a tiny smile flirted with the edge of his lips as he pushed the call button himself, moving to stand beside me again. "As you say, Miss Motti."


The rage was still there by the time the lift reached the principle office levels, but a tiny parasite of doubting logic had taken residence beside it, and was cheerfully eating away at my resolve. What would I say to my uncle when I faced him? What possible way could screaming at him affect the outcome of Despayre's fate? Nothing, I hated to admit. There was nothing I could do for the planet now. It was gone, and all its inhabitants, whether guilty or innocent of their crimes, long dead.

But I could find answers. I could at least demand to know why an entire planet had to die. And I could denounce him and this station he was so bloody proud of and this entire operation to his face. And then… then I would find a way to escape this place. Somehow, someway, I would leave. Not to join the rebellion on Alderaan, nor to go about spreading the truth of what happened to Despayre. I wasn't nearly that foolish or idealistic. I loved the Empire, the ideals that it stood for, in theory. And I had been honest when I'd told Andryl that rebelling was idiotic to say the least.

But that didn't mean I had to stand there and watch planet after planet burn. If I couldn't change anything, I could at least remove myself from it. And that was that.

I should have realized it was a bad time to interrupt Uncle when I noticed something was slightly different in the stormtroopers guarding the double doors to his office. They wore the usual white armor, but there was a patch on the left shoulder that I'd never seen before. A black plate bearing the Imperial symbol in red. Moradmin flinched, the only outward expression that he knew what was going on.

I ignored it, which was stupid. And I stormed into that office, which was also stupid.

Uncle stood gazing at a viewscreen, technical/tactical displays overlaying the shards that had once been an entire planet. And beside him… stars, the rumors and stories never did him justice. A behemoth of a man shrouded in black armor, a cloak so dark that it could blend with the vastness of space hung around his shoulders. And the breathing… the electronic pull and push of air through that nightmarish mask. It was horrifying. Soul-shattering. Fear-inspiring.

And… awe inspiring. Like I was staring at the physical embodiment of the rage that burned in my veins.

That armored head whipped around, pinning me with an eyeless gaze long before Uncle seemed to notice my presence. I stared into all that unrelieved black, into twin pools of unending hatred, and saw myself reflected back. Saw the tiny smile that touched my lips at that thought, that sudden feeling of kinship through unbridled fury. So much so that I wanted to throw my head back and howl. Not in fear, or terror, or even sorrow that I would feel such a connection with a monster, but just to let some of that bottled anger escape.

Looking at myself through the lenses of his helm was like feeding my rage through a magnifier. Stars, but I wanted to kill, to break things, to use this fuel inside of me. All the things I'd had to put up with, the drugs and the pseudo-kidnapping and the pretending to be perfect and in love with a man I didn't love, and to deny the man I thought I was falling in love with… all of it boiled over from one look into those depthless eyes.

"Little Tessa," Uncle said, surprise flavoring his tone. Followed quickly by annoyance when he saw General Bast standing next to me, as if he should have stopped me from coming here. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

His tone suggested that it was anything but. Oh, good. We were on a level emotional playing field.

"Uncle," I answered, my tone matching his. My eyes still locked onto none other than Lord Vader. "If you are expecting an apology from me for this interruption, it is going to be a long wait."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile. There was no warmth to it, other than the promise of showing me just how wrong I was in that last statement.

"You must forgive my niece, Lord Vader," he said, crossing the room to me. "I'm afraid I have let my affection for her produce unladylike characteristics in her. The price of favoritism for us both, it seems."

I turned away from the Lord Vader, pulling my eyes from his the hardest thing I had done to date. It was almost as if he was… feeding… from my emotional overload. Insane to think, but there it was. Emotions were just emotions, not powers unto themselves. Only the Emperor, may he live forever, had that sort of power. Or so the rumors said.

Still, turning from him felt like pulling from Moradmin's grasp. There was effort involved, and a slight headache afterward, as if he had literally held onto my mind.

Stupid. Foolish little daydream. Something more to blame on these drugs I was being fed against my will.

"Indeed it is," I said right back, daring to glance over my shoulder and away from Uncle without his permission. "Thank you for the escort, General Bast. Perhaps you and my guards should wait outside while Uncle and I speak."

RC-5342 and his/her companion turned on their heels with a sharp salute and left. Quickly. Moradmin was a touch slower, again that confusing and utterly frustrating look on his face that I couldn't read. Most people would have been shaking in their boots to be in the presence of Uncle AND Lord Vader. In fact, I was fairly certain that when my rage fled, I was going to be on the floor sobbing even before Uncle laid a hand to me.

But for now, there was this rage… and this strange feeling that Lord Vader approved of it.

"How dare you," I seethed the moment the three of us were alone.

"How dare I?" Uncle answered, amused anger in his tone. "I believe you have forgotten just who you are addressing, little Tessa."

A verbal slap. A warning. A reminder that I tread on unstable ground with him.

"I don't give a kriff about your rank right now, Uncle. I'm addressing you as my blood, not as a Grand Moff. Not as a commander of this technological terror you've created."

"Then indeed continue. And I will deal with you thusly."

"You blew up a planet!"

"Yes."

Just a simple answer, that one word. And the only emotion in his eyes was pride. PRIDE! Pleased that he'd done just as I'd said.

"Why?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Oh, don't give me that. You know bloody well that it is! It's the concern of every planet in every corner of the galaxy, the concern of every being that draws breath!"

"And I see you have answered your own question."

I stared at him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. Literally shrugged and walked over to the hidden bar, pressing a few buttons and retrieving two glasses of dark red wine. "This 'technological terror' as you so put it is very much the concern of every planet in the galaxy. Once word of our success here at Despayre reaches other worlds, no planet will dare oppose the Emperor."

He held out a glass to me. "Do you not see that I am making a better galaxy for you, little Tessa, at the Emperor's behest, of course," he added with a flick of his eyes towards Lord Vader, almost as if an afterthought. "Soon we will have lasting peace and security."

"Peace and… do you hear yourself?" I asked incredulously, staring first at the glass and then at him. "You say you are creating a galaxy of lasting peace and security for people like me, but Uncle, what will there be for people like me if you destroy it all first? Can't you see that the spirit of the people will rebel against this?"

"Not after this effective demonstration."

I slumped down into one of the chairs opposite his desk, rubbing a hand over my eyes. If rage couldn't reach him, maybe logic could? Doubtful, but I had to try. For every
life that now hung in the balance, I had to try something.

"Uncle, you don't understand. I've lived with real people. People who aren't smothered in politics or trying to constantly rise above their station on the backs of others. You can't scare people into submission forever. And no battle station, no matter how powerful, is stronger than the infinite…"

I groped for the right word. It was more than spirit, more than the desire for freedom. It was… It was…

"Your niece is correct," Lord Vader said. "The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force."

I wasn't certain what he meant by that, but I was going to take any backup I could in this confrontation. Especially at the way Uncle's face took on a sour expression for the briefest of moments, as if he had not expected to find the Emperor's most trusted advisor taking sides against him. If that was even what this was. But Uncle was a consummate politician if anything else, and he recovered swiftly. The smile on his lips was only partly faked, the hand that set down my intended glass and instead reached out to caress my cheek, almost tender in its restraint.

"You understand why I treasure her so, Lord Vader, and her brother. He had said almost the same thing to me before the decision was made. Anyone else would be dead at my feet for speaking to me thusly. What was the ancient saying… out of the mouth of babes comes wisdom?"

A thrill of fear and exultation ran through me at that touch. He was going to come after me for this. Oh, I was going to suffer for it. But not as harsh as it could have been. Not with the favor of Lord Vader resting on my shoulders at the moment. And not with Con's own disapproval of Despayre's destruction on record!

"The Emperor has long favored the Tarkin and Motti families for that reason," Lord Vader rumbled in response.

"Yes, he has," Uncle murmured, as if to himself, two fingertips slipping beneath my chin to tilt my head back. "Breeding will tell in the end. Though education and proper training serve to polish a jewel to its brightest potential. Rest assured, Lord Vader, that I'll see that this gem is flawless in the end."

I glared at Uncle, filled that gaze with all the hatred I felt. But I kept my mouth shut. And waited. And watched Uncle smile again as he read all of that in me.

"Go now, my Tessa," he said, stepping back from me. "You have made your point, spoken your peace. Leave me to deliberate on your words with Lord Vader. I will summon you again when you are needed."

I flicked a glance at the glass on his desk, frowning. "You aren't going to make me drink it?"

"Make you? Why ever would I force you to drink anything?"

I stared back up into his eyes, really stared as if I could dig past the polish and layers of mental control to heart of him. And I knew, right then and there, that it wasn't him. He wasn't the one drugging me. Of all the people on this station, I had been so certain it was him.

"Nothing," I growled, rising to my feet. "You have my sincerest apologies for that last part, Uncle. I have misjudged you. But only for that last part."

"Hold," he snapped, and I paused in mid-curtsey to Lord Vader. "That is the first time you have ever apologized to me and meant it since you boarded this station, child. Come here, right now."

I didn't get the chance to comply. His hand was around my arm, pulling me none to gently back to the seat I'd just vacated. "Uncle, what is—"

"Enough," he said, and it wasn't an order. At least not the order type that had come from a Grand Moff. This was pure Uncle in his voice. "Now, tell me what you meant by that last comment. Why would I force you to drink anything?"

"It's it obvious?" I snapped back. "Someone is drugging me."

I thought I had seen rage in my own eyes reflected back from Vader's mask. I had been wrong. I could not match my uncle, not if I lived to be a million years old.

"You will explain everything right now."

"I don't have to—"

A hand landed on my shoulder, one full of utter menace and hatred, and determination. One that didn't give a flip about me personally one way or the other, but one that seemed to enjoy the rage in me. One that was continuing to show his favor if only for the moment. Lord Vader was behind me, ensuring I wasn't going anywhere until I answered every one of Uncle's questions. And as I began to speak, Moradmin entered, summoned by some unseen comm. signal. He stood at my other shoulder, Uncle filling the space before me.

And it all came out. Every single word and fear and moment. By the time I was finished, I wasn't the only one filled with rage in that room.