Chapter Ten
It had been almost a year since he last saw Bail Organa, yet here he was, standing dripping wet at the Senator's doorstep seeking refuge from the cold. Vader held a sleeping twin in each arm. All three of them wore yesterday's clothes.
Bail must have heard their ship land, because he was there to meet the Skywalkers at the door.
"Anakin!" the senator uttered in surprise. Vader shushed him, hoisting the twins higher onto his hips. Bail lowered his voice. "Come, come."
Bail led his guest to a room with two beds. The senator pulled the covers back on one of them and Vader gently lowered Luke, then Leia onto the mattress.
"They can each have their own room, if they prefer," whispered Bail. "I was going to show you to the quarters next door."
"They'd just find each other," Vader said. He lingered on their faces a moment. He pulled up the covers, and Luke rolled over. They faced each other almost forehead-to-forehead, their hands half-curled under their chins. Vader exhaled, and the stress of the day released with it. "I'll sleep in here with them."
Vader tucked a curl of Leia's dark hair behind her ear and gave her a kiss. The girl looked so much like her mother when she slept that it made his heart ache. He would want to look away, but the ache would be greater still. Looking away would be forgetting. She wouldn't have wanted him to. He crossed back over to Luke. Kneeling beside the boy, he reached over to take his little hand. He rested his chin on his son's shoulder and took in every detail of the boy's face. Every freckle. Every eyelash. Then, Vader exhaled into the boy's collarbone and whispered a goodnight.
Vader slowly returned to a stand. For the first time in weeks, his heart didn't feel like it was about to pound out of his chest. Adrenaline faded away, and exhaustion replaced it. His knees bucked. He caught himself, but Bail still offered him support.
"Come, Anakin."
Bail led Vader downstairs and into the kitchen. Three tall stools nested under the lip of a bar-style counter with a basket of fruit that instantly let Vader know how hungry he was. He helped himself to an apple while Bail set some tea to brew. Vader took a large bite. As he chewed, he waited for Bail to start the conversation. The man never did. Instead, he patiently fixed a cup of tea for himself and his guest. It was so foreign to Vader—this blind trust and genuine kindness. He'd known it before, but gods, it had been a long time since he felt it.
"I appreciate this," Vader finally said. "Truly."
"You and the children are always welcome."
"Thank you."
Vader stirred his tea and sipped it. It was rich with a warm spice, and just the right amount of sweetness. It filled his belly in a way that made him want to sleep right there at the counter.
"You look exhausted," Bail said gently.
"I've been up for a good part of five days," Vader confessed. "Leia was in the medical bay. Luke was missing…" He took another sip of tea. "One nightmare after the other."
His face distraught with concern, Bail lowered himself into the chair beside Vader.
"My gods, Anakin…What happened?"
Vader chuckled nervously, sipping his tea once more.
"You got anything stronger?"
To his credit, Bail turned to scan his wine and ale cabinet, but Vader stopped him.
"Don't listen to me…I have too many vices to count, but that was never one of them." He sighed. "It dulls the pain. I don't deserve that." Nevertheless, Vader swigged his last gulp of tea like it was rowdy ale. He set the cup back onto the granite countertop and slid it away from himself as if its absence would allow him to get to the point.
Vader brought both hands to his face and rubbed the energy back into his skin. The rain had left his hair stuck to his forehead and temples. He had to stand. Then, he had to pace. Finally, he rested his elbows on the opposite side of the counter, across from Bail.
"I confess, sometimes I wonder if Luke and Leia would have been better off taken from me, as you intended."
"Anakin, there is no point in thinking like that…"
"A prince and a princess of Alderaan far supersede wards of the Empire."
"They would have never known where they came from," Bail pressed. "They'd discover their abilities and have no one to turn to who understood."
"They'd have each other."
"And they don't now?"
Vader pushed off the countertop and resumed his pacing.
"Not if the Master has anything to say about it. He knows they are stronger together. He enjoys pulling them apart just to watch them collapse." Vader huffed a laugh while his sanity dwindled. "Leia won't invite the Force hardly at all. And do you know what use she is to the Emperor without that power? None. This would be a blessing if the Master didn't make it incredibly clear what was to become of her if her value expired. So I'm hard on her. I push her. I have to. But she's not even seven years old, and I push my daughter to her breaking point just to keep her alive…"
"Anakin, your hands are white. Sit."
Vader unclenched his fists, but did not sit. He had started this and was not going to leave it unfinished. Not when he knew that he may never get the change to speak these words again. No one else could be trusted, and he didn't trust himself to ever restart.
"Luke was meant to train with the Master for an afternoon. Leia complained of a stomach ache as soon as he left and she refused to eat while he was gone. And then he was gone until night, and until the next morning. She dropped the stomach ache ruse, but she still wouldn't eat. And when she asked where her brother was, I didn't know any more than she did. No one would tell me where the Master had taken my son. I let Leia go 24 hours before I held her down and forced her to eat, but she vomited everything up. After 48 hours, I brought her to the medical bay. She still refused to eat. They fed her through a tube until Luke arrived the next day. But he wasn't my son. I cannot explain it. The light in him was gone. Death. He wouldn't stop washing his hands. He refused to be touched by anyone, even Leia. And she would eat, but now - even to Luke - she wouldn't talk. She felt what he felt, as she always does, and what she felt was too much for her to even process. Even now, she has not yet said a word. And her arm…she acted like I hurt it, pulling it away from me, but I can assure you, I did not. This arm of hers…she has nightmares about it. Once she shared to me a dream of the exact circumstances that led to the loss of my own hand, and I had never told her that story. Not the truth. She was too young. I believe it's an empathetic pain for her, or telepathic, or prophetic…I don't know. Maybe it's like Luke's counting and hand-washing and need for everything to be exactly where he left it. Another scar that I have watched Palpatine inflict upon my children. I may as well be guiding his hand."
Vader's eyes drifted towards the cabinet of ale with a dry chuckle. He couldn't remember the last time that the specific thought of needing a drink had come to him, but it was there now. Usually he needed destruction. He needed to submit to the darkness to forget. His children reminded him of the light and it had tempted him, but the pain it brought was just too much. The love was too intense. Even now, betraying his Master and turning to Bail, his commitment to the Dark Side was intact. And as that thought crossed his mind, he wondered how much of it was for his own reassurance. For if he ever did turn back, there was nothing waiting for him. No Master, no direction, and perhaps even no power. The vessel of light was gone for him.
Vader forced his focus back to Bail.
"You'd think me incapacitated, I've said so much. A sip of wine, and who knows what more I'd say. You'd probably have my bank accounts." Bail laughed generously. Vader averted his eyes and tapped his empty mug on the countertop. "Why is it that I trust you?"
Bail read the question as hypothetical—rightly so—and left it without an answer.
"The truth is," Vader continued. "I have nowhere else to turn. I have cut ties with former allies. Killed many." He eyed Bail's reaction, even though this was no secret. The senator's face stilled without judgment—a face that, on any other day, Vader would read as a challenge. "And then, there is you, Senator. You call yourself an ally. In my desperation, I am inclined to believe it." Vader took his mug and placed it in the sink, his back to Bail. "Even if you are funding an illegal alliance of rebels."
He heard the senator's breath hitch.
"Easy, Senator," Vader said, his tenor dark, but somehow nonthreatening. "It's risky business you embark upon, but I am not here to report you." He turned back to the Alderaanian. "Quite the opposite, actually. From what I gather, the first attack will be ready in twelve years, more or less?"
"Uh—I—um, My Lord, I'm afraid you're mistak—"
"Don't," Vader clipped. "I know, Bail. Twelve years. Yes or no?"
Bail straightened carefully. Seeing he would say nothing, Vader continued nonetheless.
"Well, I have projected ten years minimum." He pulled an envelope from his pocket and presented it to Bail. "This should expedite the process."
Skeptically, Bail reached for the envelope and opened it. His eyes went wide.
"I only have one condition," Vader said. Bail's eyes left the envelope's contents and met the Sith's.
"Go on."
"Set up emergency accommodations for my children."
"Anakin, you cannot possibly take them back," Bail pressed. "Not after what you told me. We can work this out now, if we must, especially with these funds. I can keep you all safe."
"I wish I could, but there is a part I have to play as well…accommodations I have to make. You may think you can protect us, but as of now, the Emperor's reach extends far beyond anything you can imagine. He is wary of me now. I need to regain his trust. The children need to as well." His eyes drifted towards the stairs. "They are not ready. And neither am I."
Bail shook his head empathetically.
"Then it will be done," he said. "The accommodations for you and the children, that is."
"And the attack? There is more where that came from," Vader assured him, gesturing towards the envelope.
"Well, in that case, the deadline is in your hands, Anakin, assuming time is allowed for accommodation of a base, a fleet, and sufficient members."
Vader answered immediately.
"It cannot wait until my children are young adults in the clutches of the Master to get them away. They are to be knights by sixteen, and both will belong to the Emperor. The attack must be before then."
Bail removed the contents of the envelope—the first was a check, and the second was folded parchment. He unfolded it and laid it out on the countertop, revealing the schematics of a gigantic, spherical structure.
"Oh. Oh, my..." Bail said under his breath. "This…this is a space station? Is that possible?"
"It is," confirmed Vader. "It is to be called The Death Star. You must attack before it is finished."