A/N: Thank you for all who have read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story. Apologies for not updating as swiftly as usual. The flu took me down for quite a bit, but I am better now! I hope. :P

The reference to Leia and Tessa liberally dumping pink sparkly paint on a Moff was all inspired by the lovely Malicean, and comes from chapter five of Vader's Own. The incident regarding the rumors of Veers and an "interest" in young girls also comes from a twisted rumor based on chapter one and two of the same story. Go read it. It is beyond worth the read. :)

LC-9087 and RC-5342, and so much more come from Loyal soldier of the Empire - Journal of an Imperial Stormtrooper by the wonderful Hoplite39. Again, this story is beyond worth the read. :)

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

The only thing I hated more than the drug rewiring my brain was the injections of the counteragent that was undoing the rewiring. First off, they hurt. In this day and age where hypoinjectors could deliver medicines with a soft hiss of air, injectors shouldn't have to hurt. But this one did, because it was delivered right at the base of my brainstem. Twice daily for three days now. And it was done by one seriously nervous doctor, too, which probably didn't help the feeling any.

Seriously nervous because it had come down from on high that I was to make a complete recovery. Period. End of list. From Uncle to my brother to even Grand Admiral Batch, I was on the must-live-or-else order form. The only thing that could have made this worse was if Lord Vader, himself, put the hypoinjector to my flesh. On a complete side note, I still didn't know what to think of Lord Vader, or what I'd said or done before him. It was probably best to blame all my actions on the drugs and just hope to Imperial Center and back that I never ran into him again.

Uncle or Con or Martio oversaw each and every injection. That is, when my brother deigned to speak with me. Which was now a rare occasion, seeing as he was absolutely furious and hurt that a) I hadn't come to him about this drug thing in the first place and b) because I'd honestly thought he was behind it, at least in part.

Well, what did he expect when I'd seen how he'd treated that Bria Theran woman? That he'd show up with flowers and a song on his lips when he wanted me to do something for him? He was never an overly cruel boy growing up, but honestly… the day I saw Conan Antonio Motti asking anyone to do anything with a smile, a song, and something nice as a gift was the day I'd accuse him of being on drugs.

I lifted my head from Martio's shoulder, fighting not to rub the back of my neck or unclench my jaw. The first option was a no-no, as touching the injection site was prohibited for a full twenty minutes after. Something about the needle going into the vertebrae and spinal cord or some such nonsense. I wasn't a doctor, so it was all pretty much medical-babble way over my comprehension. I wasn't allowed to do much of anything, actually, until that time had passed. Dangers of infections or bumping the area or something like that.

The second was a pride thing. I would not sob all over Martio's nice white uniform. No matter how much pain I was in. And yes, I was in a lot of it. Which was why Martio was here today, in Con's apartments.

"Better?" he asked, the pad of his thumb tenderly brushing away the single tear I'd let escape.

"Yes," I muttered, blushing faintly. And feeling like an idiot for blushing at the man. For goodness sake, I wasn't the type of girl that did those things. Was I? "I have to fight not to touch it."

"I have better things for your hands to do."

I lifted both eyebrows. "You know, that sounded vaguely like something no self-respecting girl would answer."

The innocent look he turned my way belied the smoldering dark humor in his eyes. "I like you better this way, my Tessa."

"As an invalid dependant on you for the next twenty minutes?"

"As the fiery woman that caught my eye in your Uncle's office."

"So the submissive Tessa, the one that was all drugged up wasn't to your liking?"

"Hardly," He replied, taking my hands in his and bringing them to his lips. "I told you before that I prefer someone with whom I can converse openly. Who isn't afraid to argue back with me or crawl through ray shafts on a whim."

Okay, blushed at that one, too. What had I been thinking that day? To drag a Grand Admiral through those shafts like he was a commoner… Oh, I knew what I had been thinking. I'd been trying to get him to scoff at the idea, to think me an immature child unworthy of his marriage no matter how large my dowry. Only I was the one that was surprised that day. And pretty much every day since.

His laughter stifled any retort I could have made, the soft warmth of his lips pressed to my forehead making me flush again… though for different reasons entirely.

"You're the only man in the Empire that feels that way. Most want pretty dollies to dangle on their arms."

"I am not most men."

"So I'm gathering."

I leaned back, watching as he signaled for a serving droid to come near. Trying to figure out how to phrase my next sentence without offending him. He could talk all he liked about how he wanted a strong woman in his life. But until he signed that marriage contract, this whole thing could blow up in my face. And then Uncle would blow up in my face. And after what he'd done to Despayre, I sincerely and utterly wanted to stay on his good side for the rest of my life. There was literally no place in the Galaxy I could hide from his wrath now.

Which meant I was marrying Martio Batch whether or not I wanted to. It was either that, or risk him blowing up planet after planet and murdering millions of people to find me.

No, I wouldn't put it past him to do that. There was no such thing as an abuse of power when you, yourself, made up the rules governing said power. And Uncle always made the rules.

The serving droid whipped the top from a warming dish, revealing some of my favorite foods along with several I did not recognize. A second droid produced a holocube and went about setting it up. Apparently when he said he had things for my hands to do, he hadn't meant putting my fingers on him. Unless, of course, part of my fun involved tasting those foods and then seeing just how many colorful fingerprints I could put on that white uniform…

Okay, okay. I was attracted to the man. I now had solid proof that it wasn't the drugs making me want him. But was physical attraction enough to base an entire marriage upon? Aside from money and wealth and all of that other stuff that usually accompanied a marriage of state, I meant. I didn't know. All I knew was that if I couldn't be with Cassio, was Martio really that bad an option?

"You're thinking too hard."

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"

He smiled faintly, preparing two plates for us from the arranged fingerfoods. "You have a tiny crease between your eyebrows, Tessa. That only happens when you are in deep thought."

"Just deciding something."

"Such as?"

"How to ask you something without offending you."

He chuckled. "You have no idea how much I missed this blunt honesty of yours."

"I would have thought blunt honesty was the hallmark of the men under your command."

"No, you are confusing that with concise civility."

"Concise civility," I echoed. "So you're saying that the courtly games of the great families extend to life in the Fleet?"

"Not precisely," he replied, holding out a bit of fruit to me. "Honesty is required rather than intrigues. But politics do play heavily into earning promotions or the best assignments. It takes more than just a good name and breeding to advance in the Imperial Navy."

I leaned forward, taking a nibble from the offering in his fingers, feeling no small amount of pride at the oh so subtle way his breath caught at that. Almost imperceptibly so. The polite thing to have done was to take the fruit in my own fingers. But I'd seen Olonrae do this on Alderaan to entice men to want her. I wasn't disappointed in the results. A hussy move or not, it granted me Martio's complete and utter attention.

"I see," I murmured after swallowing, picking up a random item from the plate and offering it to him in the same manner. "And this 'concise civility' is a scaled down version of court behavior?"

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine, and took a small nibble from the fruit in my fingers. And this time it was my breath that caught, my mind that was utterly aware for the first time of the power that sat next to me in this room. A Grand Admiral, eating from my fingers… A man that could command entire quadrants of the Galaxy to dance if he so desired it, and he was staring at me with those over-intelligent, calculating eyes. Weighing and measuring every little detail while still managing to shine with desire.

My mouth suddenly went dry, and the tight bodice of my dress felt a little too tight for proper breath.

"It is politics without the flowery words," He said simply after wiping his mouth with a napkin. "In the fleet, there is oftentimes very little opportunity to prepare your words carefully in advance. Concise civility allows one to state their mind, their intentions and their desires least amount of words without causing offense."

"Sounds incredibly complicated."

"And it sounds like you are trying to change the topic. What is it that you wanted to ask me?"

I paused in reaching for my glass. "Okay," I said, turning to face him. "This may not be the concise civility that you were talking about, but you told me once that the only way things would work between us was if I was completely honest with you. And since you're probably already aware that I'm a political hot mess, I'm just going to say it. I think part of the reason I was drugged was an attack against you."

"Yes."

I blinked, thrown by that answer and answered in return with my usual charming courtly wit. "Ummm… what?"

"Yes, I have considered that option as well," he chuckled faintly. "While I do not believe this was done to you as a move against me directly, I do believe someone wanted to disrupt the possibility of a union between us. And this someone had to know us both very well in order to conduct this type of sabotage."

"They… did?"

He shrugged, picking up his wine glass and offering mine to me as well. "Consider the evidence. One would have to know that you are a fiery woman by nature, one that will rail against the common good seemingly on a whim. Someone that knew you were completely unpredictable, and someone that knew I would find those characteristics in you undeniably attractive. What better way to ruin a lucrative alliance between myself and your family than to make it seem that you were coached to act radically, but underneath you were as empty as all the others."

"So what you're saying is that if this poisoner got his or her way and turned me into a walking wet blanket, you would have turned me away."

"If I had consented to the marriage already, I would not have that option," he continued easily. "However, your Uncle would have made a huge enemy in supposedly lying to me."

I shivered, the fire of desire in me snuffed out by the simple… ruthlessness in those words. It was the only way to describe it. They'd rolled off his lips with smooth and simple deliberation, but the… the… promise in them chilled me to the bone. He would have honored his marriage to me, of that I had no doubt. But he would have made Uncle pay for the duplicity for the rest of his life. Pay in extremely steep ways that would have involved failed military campaign after failed military campaign, until the Emperor stripped him and House Tarkin of everything.

For people like Uncle, it was a fate far worse than death.

My mouth went dry in a way that had nothing to do with pleasure, and I swallowed a large gulp of wine to hide it.

"I did not say this to frighten you, Tessa," he continued, staring at me intently over the rim of his glass. "I am returning honesty with honesty. I am a ruthless man, possessed of drives and ambitions most would see as over the top. But I am also just a man, with a man's desire for a wife and family. I cannot promise to be at your side every moment, or to be able to take your wishes into consideration when I make decisions for us. However, I will promise to do everything in my power to protect you and our children, should we have any. You will lack for nothing."

I almost dropped my wine, nearly coughing a mouthful all over the table. By the Emperor, that sounded very much like a proposal! As if he was moments away from walking into Uncle's office and signing that paperwork.

"Martio," I began, forgetting how to breathe all of a sudden. "I—"

I never got to finish that thought. The doors to the main parlor slid open, and I felt a bubble of hope rise in my chest. Saved by the proverbial interruption! Whomever it was that had dared interrupt our lunch was going to earn a huge kiss from me… Until I noticed the wary glint that slid into Martio's eyes, and that bubble of hope sank quickly.

It felt like it took forever for me to turn my head, to stare at the men piling through the doorway. Colonel Veers was there, along with Major Fehr of all bloody men. And the look on their faces was less than pleasant. So much so that Martio set down his wine, rising to his feet and taking that one stride that put him between them and me.

"Admiral," Colonel Veers began, saluting sharply. His gaze flicked to me for just a moment. "I am afraid that I come with ill tidings for Miss Motti. It was my hope that her brother would be present at this time."

Another step forward, ensuring I was well shielded from either men. Whether he did it because he shared Con's dislike of the Colonel, or he harbored my same anger at Fehr (the former adjutant to my brother, I should say. I'd heard that Uncle and brother both had the man beaten for his actions against me, and demoted to some lesser person's adjutant. Perhaps he was given to Veers? It would make sense, given Con's dislike of the man…), I didn't know. All I knew was that I was stalling. Afraid of what the Colonel was going to say. Hadn't I gone through enough already?!

"Admiral Motti is currently overseeing several duties for Grand Moff Tarkin," Martio continued, his voice taking on a dangerously soft quality that had me shivering. "Admiral Motti has placed her under my care for the time being. Whatever needs to be said to Miss Motti can be said in my presence."

The Colonel nodded, turning flat dispassionate yet professional eyes my way. "Miss Motti, it is my sad duty to inform you that Senator Andyrl Kuron's ship was intercepted on its way to Alderaan and was destroyed. You have my extreme condolences…"

I'm fairly certain that the good Colonel continued to say other words after those two damning sentences, but I wasn't listening anymore. It's hard to listen when screaming, when throwing things. When having a full on temper tantrum brought on by the worst grief I had ever known. I'd called him a liar, a bastard, and all sorts of other things. That was until he'd turned on his heel and sharply reprimanded Major Fehr for something he'd said. Probably because I'd started my 'throwing things fit' by aiming at Fehr's head.

Don't ask me what it was, but I remembered the look in Fehr's eyes as a large part of my world fell apart. Joy. Unrestrained dark joy in my pain, in my loss.

Apparently that was the line for Colonel Veers. That someone could take so much personal happiness in the utter sorrow of another was something he could not abide. Maybe Con had been wrong about him and Leia. Maybe he wasn't a man that had affection for young girls. No one that shoved someone like Fehr so firmly out of the room, purposefully clipping the man's shoulder rather hard in the doorframe, could have those debased desires.

And the look Veers sent my way as he left, the look of compassion and apology…

Kriff, I was going to owe the man an apology, wasn't I? Of course, that required me to reclaim my right mind and shake off the pall of sorrow-induced madness.

The heavy rhythm of stromtrooper boots on polished durasteel was a measured counterpoint to the dull ache behind my eyes as I wandered the mostly empty halls. Andy was dead, murdered by the same people that he had tried to protect. I had seen the evidence that Colonel Veers had presented with my own eyes (which was what had led to my tantrum, truth be told). One of Andy's attendants had managed to survive, to slip into a life pod with video of the massacre and a jammer so that the pod appeared empty of life signs. Those treacherous bastards had let it go, never knowing that they were spelling out their own doom.

Stars, I could still see it all behind my eyes! The uniforms of the Alderaan Security Force as the boarding party entered the ship, the smiling face of the liaison to Prince Consort Bail Organa with his adoring wife there on his arm. Andy stepping forward to greet this advanced diplomatic party, a slightly confused look in his too-kind eyes. And the woman… that horrible, horrible woman smiling so nicely on the liaison's arm… pulling a blaster from the folds of her gown and shouting something like "Long live the Rebellion" or "Death to the Emperor" or something like that.

I couldn't rightly tell you what she said. I'd been too busy staring in horror as that blaster came up level with Andy's heart.

The first shot killed him instantly.

The second shot to the chest was just overkill.

But the shot to the head… the one that rendered Andy's face into so much shattered flesh and bone?

All I could see was white after that, the glistening pristine white of Martio's uniform as he pushed my head into his shoulder. Muffling my screams, my sobs.

When my hysterics were spent to mere cries, Martio made me promise to stay in my quarters until he or my brother returned. I should have known that Colonel Veers and Major Fehr had not been sent to only tell me this bad news. No matter my ties to the Grand Moff and High Admiral, I was still simply a civilian. Sending a Colonel, even the adjutant of my brother, was overkill for this kind of information. No, they'd been sent to retrieve the Grand Admiral. By orders of the Emperor, himself, Uncle was to formulate a response to this latest act of rebellion aggression and Martio would be needed for that.

I stopped in my random wandering of the hallways, rubbing my eyes, my stormtrooper escort falling into place on either side of me. I couldn't keep that promise to Martio, not after calling Andy's wife the moment he'd left. Setalle and I had never been close, but Andy had loved her beyond words. Loved her and their two children. One look at her blood-shot eyes on that screen had me sobbing anew. And I was never more thankful of the charity of our Emperor than when she informed me that a special session of the Senate had been called to handle this atrocity. She was going to speak before the Senate at the Emperor's request, and the demands for retribution against Alderaan for this betrayal would come from her lips with fire and zeal.

I… I couldn't fault her for it, honestly. As suddenly the planet that had been my home for so long, that had sheltered me when I tried to run from all I was, had become this foreign inhospitable place in the blink of an eye.

All I had known, all I had believed in, was now a lie. And that hurt just as badly as Andy's death.

One of my guards (I hadn't bothered to learn their operating numbers in the wake of my grief) shifted his/her position and pressed a button on the wall. Apparently I'd chosen to wallow in my misery near a turbolift shaft. Idly, I'd wondered if he/she'd just override the doors and let me take a flying leap into the shaft. Just anything to make this sickening list of betrayals stop.

"Where are we going?" I sniffed, swiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

"General quarters have been sounded, Miss Motti," came the synthesized ever-the-same male voice out of that filter. "Many sections of the station have been declared off-limits to non-military personnel. We should return to yours immediately until the alert is over."

"Do-does this have anything to do with Andy's death?"

"Unknown at this point, Miss Motti."

I wanted to argue the point. The thought of going back to those same walls, waiting in silence and ignorance for any kind of information or comfort, was enough to make me break down in sobs again. But if an order was given, they'd have to obey it. And that meant I was along for the ride.

"Fine," I muttered. "When we get back, I have a request. I want to see LC-9087 and RC-5342."

They didn't ask why, for which I was thankful. I had no idea why I wanted to see those two troopers, other than I felt absolutely safe when they were around. I had a connection of a sort to them even if it wasn't returned. And right now I needed some kind of comfort, even if it came from a pair of highly confused and less than compassionate white armored walls.

The lift doors parted, and a hand latched around my arm, pulling me backwards before I walked blindly into the lift. It was occupied by a woman and a pair of stormtroopers. Who were just as surprised to see me as I was to see them.

"Jentessa?" Leia Organa gasped softly.

I all but yanked my arm out of my escort's grasp. "You!" I hissed, storming right into the lift. "You dare to be here after what you've done?"

"I dare?" she asked right back, confusion replacing the shock. "They have captured you, too?"

"Captured?" Did she really just say that?

I glanced down, noting that her hands were bound and the two troopers escorting her weren't doing it to be kind. And still I couldn't bring myself to care. Nothing like an emotional shock to pull you out of an emotional numbness. First Despayre and now Andy… "Well, at least they moved quickly to put an end to your treachery."

Her chin snapped up, enough regal ice in her eyes to give Martio a run for his money. "I see."

"Do you?" I seethed, righteous hot rage to match her dispassionate frost. "You 'see' the murder you've done? Tell me, did your father orchestrate the whole thing, or was this your twisted idea alone? It'll help me sleep better at night to know they have Andy's killer in custody already. It'll save me the trip down to Alderaan to personally watch the arrest of your entire poisonous family. How could you, Leia? How could you destroy our chance at peace?"

Her mouth fell open, and I watched as the two troopers escorting her pull her back a step. But made no move to silence her. Just as my two escorts filed into the lift with me, and likewise made no effort to quiet me down. Which should have registered as odd, truth be told. But I wasn't really caring about that at the moment, not when I had the chance to hear just who had murdered my friend.

"Andy?" she echoed. "Senator Andryl Kuron is dead?"

"Yes!" I screamed, causing one of her guards to pull her backwards again until her back was to his chest. "By people in your uniforms! By your father's very own attaché! I saw the video, Leia! I heard the words! Andy is dead, all for your precious little rebellion!"

I took the advantage to step closer yet again. Which prompted my two escorts to raise their rifles slightly, which in turn prompted her two escorts to do the same. Stars, were the two of us under different sets of orders? Would loyal soldiers of the Empire open fire on each other because they thought the other may injure their charge?

"I had nothing to do with it," she snapped back, bringing me back to the moment. "Andy was my friend, too, Tessa. Listen to me, the rebellion isn't the one responsible for this murder. I can promise you that. Were I you, I would look to the proof right in front of your eyes."

And then she pointedly glanced around her at the four stormtroopers crowed into the lift with us.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She'd just… had she just admitted to being part of the rebellion? Was she really that obsessed with this supposed need for a freedom we already enjoyed under Emperor Palpatine? Kriff, what had happened to that girl I'd known back in school? The one that had enjoyed making Domina Tagge eat her own words, who had slipped into my dorm room to share secrets in the middle of the night?

What in the Empire had happened to the girl that had laughed as we'd set up Moff What's-his-name for the greatest prank our school had ever known? I was willing to lay down good money on the odds that that Moff was still trying to get all that pink glittery paint out of his hair and skin. I saw none of that in this woman standing before me.

No, I take that back. I saw the same rebellious independent streak I'd seen back then. Only it was fire-hardened and focused, sharp as blade and aimed at the heart of everything I had left. And that, more than anything else, pissed me off.

"Don't you dare," I snarled, fingers curling into talons as if to rip the lies from her lips, causing her two escorts to shift again, and mine to do the same. "Don't you dare disparage these officers for doing their duty. Not when it was your own people that committed this murder, that opened fire on an unarmed innocent man."

"And stormtroopers do not?"

"Of course they don't," I snapped back, feeling at least like I had the moral ground on this one. "And before you try to twist those words, I know what it means to go through their conditioning. They are incapable of it. Their training prevents it. And I think you know that."

She studied me intently for a long moment, the decks flying by as the lift took us wherever my escorts had programmed it to go. "You saw the recording of the murder?"

"Yes!"

"Tell me what you saw, what you truly saw in that recording. Was Andy… was his life ended with precise blaster fire?"

She got points for the way her voice hitched slightly at his name. But not many. "You know it was," I whispered hotly. "You helped plan it if you know that."

She sighed then, as if addressing a simpleton. "Then it wasn't our people, Tessa. Alderaan has no weapons. You know that. You lived there long enough to know that. Our people carry shock batons and would never, ever, send armed forces to meet with a peaceful diplomatic envoy, even if it was sent from a corrupt despot."

How lovely she looked, how self-possessed and in control. Hair all in place, gown only beginning to show dirt on the hem of its belled sleeves. As if she was the willing guest on the Death Star and I was the prisoner. Which I was, but there was no reason to let her know that.

"You're saying that your people couldn't get ahold of blasters?"

"No, I'm stating that my people would never use them, even if they had them. Someone else murdered Senator Kuron. And if I had to guess, I would say it was someone with the best training in how to kill. Someone, say, that had a reason to see peaceful negotiations fail. Someone that might wear white armor when not impersonating my people."

She turned on her pretty slippered toe, facing one of her escorts. "Am I right, trooper? Of all my escorts, you have always remained the most level headed. Perhaps that is why you and the woman are always with me. Tell the lovely Miss Motti that I am wrong. Except that you know I am right," she dared to rise up on her tiptoes, to try and meet him eye-to-eye. "Just like I am right in everything I have said about you and your friends."

That was it. That was the last straw. I took a lesson from Colonel Veers and grabbed Leia by her shoulder, shoving her back and stepping between her and the trooper. "I've had enough! Do not ever—EVER—disparage these people that risk everything to save our lives. To give us peace while you and your kind destroy it. I'll personally stop you before you so much as harm any of them with your poisonous words."

"My truths you mean," she said, and the small smile that touched her lips was worse than poisonous.

Was so much worse when I realized that I'd done exactly what she'd wanted me to do. Her words from before came back to me, of how those two troopers 'have always remained the most level headed. Perhaps that is why you and the woman are always with me.' And I'd put her up against my two escorts, who probably hadn't escorted her before. Who were probably just as angry at her offensive and slanderous words…

"NO—"

"So, Sergeant," she said sweetly right over my scream, turning to one of my escorts. "Who was your father? Let me guess, they told you that he was an Imperial fighter pilot, am I correct? Don't look so surprised. Many stormtroopers are told their fathers are pilots who die gloriously fighting for the Galactic Empire. But you know what I think? I think your parents were rebels and the Empire killed them. The Empire lied to you."

There was absolute stunned silence in the lift for a whole minute. A minute where I had backed into the trooper I was defending, had wrapped my arms around his or her waist while his/her arms came down in front of me. Not to comfort or shield me. But to make sure his/her weapon was easily in front and ready to fire.

Just one precious minute wherein we all held our breaths. Wherein we all stared at the tiny woman in white as if she were the Dark Side, incarnate.

Until one of my escorts twitched.

Until the other of Leia's escorts grabbed my arm, yanking me to the side.

Until the doors opened and suddenly the trooper I'd been defending charged forward at a dead run, grabbing Leia around the waist and nearly throwing her out of the lift. His blaster discharged a stream of blue light before she'd even hit the ground, stunning her. And I watched in that silent horrible way as one of my escorts, one of the men I'd just said was incapable of firing on an unarmed person, flicked his blaster to full auto and took aim on Leia's unconscious form.

"NO!" I screamed again.

But that was all I could do before the last of Leia's escorts had fired at one of mine. Causing the shot he'd aimed at Leia to go wide.

Inside the lift.

I was instantly covered by a white armored body as the energy bolt ricocheted throughout the lift, though I could no longer tell if it was one of my escorts doing the protecting. All I heard was the sound of white armor hitting the durasteel deck, the blasterbolt slamming around our space and then the screaming of electronics. The lift shuddered, the smell of burnt circuits filled the air.

And then we were plumming down the shaft, completely out of control.