As Tim Gunn says, "Make it work."—I hope I did. Enjoy.
CHAPTER 11:
Princess Leia Organa stood at the top of the landing ramp thankful that no one could see her. She slowly inhaled the familiar petrol that usually polluted any hangar, a scent she that once comforted her but now left her nauseous. To her surprise, she missed the crisp biting atmosphere of Hoth where her world was as "perfect" as it would ever get. Until it all fell apart. Luke. What have I done? What am I doing?
She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, a nervous habit from her younger years. Perhaps she should have pinned her hair into a coronet of braids or a tight bun at the nap of her neck. That would have left her with no temptation to fiddle with her hair. She scrutinized the lock that curled around her finger. Was her hair even long enough for her usual elaborate hairstyles? Leia forced her hand to her side and bit her bottom lip. They were expecting that Princess Leia, all neat and ordered and composed to a fault. Everything that she wasn't, maybe never was, but did she ever have a choice to be anyone else but Princess Leia Organa? If she did, what would that be?
Definitely not this.
Leia felt Han's stealth approach but did not turn or acknowledge his presence. He slipped his hand under her arm and took her hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeezed. Leia straightened her back and lifted her chin. She tightened her grip on his hand as she took her first step down the ramp, thankful to have Han by her side.
Mon Mothma's icy blue eyes remained glued to the antiquated ship that now sat in the rebel's hangar. She discreetly inhaled a deep long breath and held her neck rigid. How long had it been since she had seen a Nubian ship, this model of a Nubian ship? She knew in her mind that it wasn't the ship that belonged to her esteemed colleague and fellow Senator of the New Republic, but Mon Montha's heart wanted it to be. She had so much to unfinished business to settle with Padme Nabriee. What was Nabriee thinking? How could she betray them?
As Princess Leia Organa descended down the ramp, hand-in-hand with Captain Solo, Mon Mothma clenched her teeth. The girl could have been Nabriee. How come she hadn't seen it before?
Because no one wanted to see it. No one wanted to think such a thing was possible.
The princess's large brown eyes flicked over Mon Mothma's cool blue ones, then onto General Crix Madine, Admiral Ackbar, and General Dodonna before they settled on the man standing next to the esteemed rebel leader, General Carlist Reeikan. Reeikan tipped his weight forward on the balls of his feet but managed to restrain himself from running to the wayward girl. Mon Montha's lip twitched. General Reeikan served the Organa family and was Bail Organa's closest friend. Reeikan, who watched over the girl most of her young life, was more of a father to the princess than Bail. The general claimed he knew nothing about Princess Leia's heritage, but Mon Mothma had to wonder how true his words were. How could he not know?
Mon Mothma's left hand curled into a tight ball hidden under the billowing sleeve of her long robes. She herself had trained the young politico in the delicacies of diplomacy and the inner workings of the Senate. Yet, she herself didn't know.
Mon Montha lifted her chin as the princess' crude combat boots touched the ground of the hangar. "Your Highness," she noted how Leia flinched at the title. "We are more than relieved to find that you are well."
"Thank you," Leia responded and tightened her hold on Han's hand.
Mon Mothma's eyes fell to their clasped hands and shuddered. Like mother, like daughter…
"You too, Captain Solo," the rebel leader mumbled as an afterthought.
"Thanks a lot," Han smirked, "I'm touched by your sentiment."
No one seemed to hear Han's wise-crack and his words floated along with the various pounding and hissing in the hangar that mingled into nothing more than white noise.
Leia's eyes flitted over to General Reeikan before settling back on Mon Mothma. As if on cue, Reeikan stepped forward and the girl flew into his arms like a five year old.
Reeikan held her so tight that he forgot to breathe. He recaptured his breath as he slightly loosened his hold. "All my prayers have been answered," he whispered into her ear.
Leia pressed her face against his chest and inhaled until she couldn't fit another molecule of his soapy scent in her lungs. She reluctantly pulled herself away from his safe embrace. If he knew…would his prayers be the same?
Madine cleared his throat, "General Rieekan's sentiments are echoed among all of us."
Leia took a step back and aligned herself with Han once again. "Thank you, General." She silently acknowledged Admiral Ackbar and General Dodonna who flanked Mon Mothma with a stifled nod.
"Of course," Madine cleared his throat yet again. "We do have some sensitive matters to take care of before we can conduct more pleasant business."
"Of course," Leia bit the inside of her cheek and lifted her chin.
"Don't ya' think she deserves—"
Mon Mothma's head twitched toward Han's voice, "This applies to you as well, Captain Solo."
Han rolled his eyes before settling into a pinched expression, and he thrust his finger in Mon Mothma's directions, "After what we went through—"
"That's exactly why this is important," General Dodonna cut in.
Han opened his mouth, but a small hand upon his arm stifled his retort. "He's right, Han," Leia's voice was flat and emotionless. "The sooner we're debriefed, the better. The Alliance's fate could rest upon the information we can provide them."
Han furrowed his brow and looked down at her. What exactly did she plan on sharing? Leia remained poised and her large dark eyes did not waver nor reveal her intentions. He relented, shaking his head. This wasn't going to be good for her. Not good at all. How could he protect her if she sabotages herself? Solo glanced back at the Nubian ship and rolled his lips between his teeth. He returned her to the Alliance thinking she was safer here than coming to him to rescue Chewie. What was he thinking?
"The droids?" General Madine asked, and the Mon Calamari General sucked in a breath.
"General, perhaps this isn't the time," Admiral Ackbar interrupted.
"Of course it is," Mon Mothma shot an icy glare in Ackbar's direction. "They were with you, am I correct?"
Leia shook her head, "They didn't make it."
"Does Darth Vader have them?" her voice slightly trembled. The princess' brow creased as she waited for Mon Mothma to continue. "Those droids hold highly classified… information. You can see our concern."
"No," Leia gazed into her superior's blue eyes, almost the same hue as Luke's but not at all warm or familiar, "I destroyed the droids before Vader had a chance to touch them."
"Good thinking," she smiled without moving her mouth. "I know it must have been difficult considering that they belonged to Commander Skywalker. You have my condolences."
"Thank you," the princess whispered.
"Of course we know you always put the Alliance first. You proved that the last time Darth Vader—"
Han took Leia's hand in his, "This conversation is over."
"But the debriefing," Madine bristled.
Reeikan opened his arms and attempted to shuffle Leia and Han toward the hangar door, "Perhaps we should give them some time to settle in before we move on to official business." He took hold of Leia's arm, and she pulled Han along with her. Reeikan weakly smiled down at her, "We prepared your quarters once we heard you were on your way here."
Leia's eyes smiled at her long-time caregiver though her face remained expressionless, "Thank you, General."
"Say we conduct the debriefing at twenty-hundred hours?" Mon Mothma asked.
"Sounds good," Han answered as he grinned at the High Command. "See ya' then." He gave them a faux salute and sauntered away before anyone could comment upon his departure. He was certain no one prepared any quarters for him, and the grin remained pasted on his face long after he left their suffocating presence.
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Princess Leia glared at the rebel uniform she laid out on her bed. The khaki shirt screamed out her rank, a rank that meant little. She touched the coarse material before picking up the sky blue pants with a yellow stripe running down its legs. It wasn't a Corellian Blood Stripe, but a stripe nonetheless, that only served to remind her of Han and all he sacrificed for her. Leia closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her palm against them.
"Hey, Your Worship," Han glided in behind her, wrapped his arms around her slender waist, and kissed the sweet skin under her ear. Resting his chin on her shoulder he asked, "We've been away that long?"
"Hhmm?"
"The uniform." The vibrations of his voice rumbled through her body as he spoke. "It's diff'rent."
"Different climate," she dropped her hands from her eyes and her eyes to the insignia on the vest. She fingered the shiny rectangles. "Different place," she whispered more to herself.
Han kissed the crown of her head, letting his nose linger a moment before he stepped away. "Maybe we shouldn't have come back."
The princess pursed her lips. "No," she lied. "They'll help us rescue Chewie."
"Yeah, I bet," Han muttered, and Leia cringed. His eyes groped their posh environment. "At least they gave you the…royal suite."
"It's nice enough," Leia glared at the large sitting room that opened into an atrium where her private chamber was tucked away.
"Nice enough?" Han echoed incredulously. "Way better than Hoth."
"What would you expect on Hoth?" Leia mused. "The scenery and climate are much too drab for an atrium."
"Come on," he tucked his hands into his back pockets. "You can't complain about these quarters at all."
"Yes I can," she stated with a tight smile.
"Well, of course you can," Han sported a lop-sided grin. "You have an incredible knack for complainin', Sweetheart."
Leia wrinkled up her nose and tilted her head to the left, "I do, don't I?"
"That's why I love ya'."
"I know," she winked at him before turning back to the uniform. "Enjoy it now, fllyboy. My next quarters might not be so luxurious."
"The rebels' buggin' out already?"
"No," Leia sucked on her lip before continuing. "Whether or not I stay here depends on how the debriefing goes."
"Huh?" Han frowned. "I won't let 'em throw you in the slammer."
"Han," Leia turned to him and rolled her large dark eyes. "This is the prison."
"I don't get it."
She gazed toward the atrium and held her hands out, "If things go poorly we get to enjoy the good life." Han's quizzical expression incited a sigh. "I'd be a high profile prisoner. If I pose a danger to the Alliance, they can't just execute me since everyone witnessed our return and those who didn't are most likely talking about it. When the High Command figures things out, I'll know my fate."
"Come on, Leia," Han sighed. "This is the Alliance. They wouldn't—"
The comm screeched, causing the pair to forget any words they had just spoken. Leia's mouth formed a small 'o' and her large dark eyes flew to Han's face. He gave her a small defeated smile.
The princess cleared her throat as she pressed her index finger on the small button and activated the comm, "Yes?"
A static click and then a faceless voice, "The High Command is ready for you."
Leia let go of the button, "Thank you."
"Well," Han put his hands on his hips. "Guess it's time." His eyes roved over her shoulder length wavy hair, then to the periwinkle long sleeve shift that exposed her shoulders and floated a few centimeters above her knees, and finally to the clunky combat boots that seemed too big for her delicate feet but fit her like a weathered glove. "You gonna change?"
Leia glanced over her shoulder at the rebel uniform upon her bed. "No." She looked back to Han, "I'm ready."
Solo shrugged and held out a proffered arm, and Leia wrapped her fingers around it, "Is this how it feels to face a firing squad?"
Leia's lips twitched before settling into a smirk, "A firing squad would be a welcome reprieve to what we face."
"This sounds like it's gonna be alotta fun," Han mimicked her smirk.
"Indeed," Leia arched her eyebrow before all bravado faded from her mien. "Best not keep them waiting."
Han took her head in his free hand, pulled her to him, and gently kissed her lips. Without another word, he led her to the unknown that lain ahead of them.
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Mon Mothma held a tumbler in her right hand partially filled with a rich burgundy liquid and stared out the oval window. The sky outside rolled with an all-consuming turmoil that pressed against the crisp earth and hovered there like a scolian raptor waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Mon Mothma tipped the tumbler to her lips and allowed the rich liquid to burn her parched lips. Why didn't it just make its inedible move?
She smoothed her pale blue robes as if to wipe away the dirt from her spotless hand. She had never seen the Princess of Alderaan so vulnerable with her large brown eyes liquid in pain. The girl looked like she would shatter at any moment, but Mon Mothma and the rest of the High Command didn't relent with their intrusive questions and stinging insinuations. She could have stopped such interrogation techniques, but she didn't.
She couldn't, for all the fragileness she saw in Princess Leia Organa, Mon Mothma detected the fire and fierceness that boiled inside the girl, lying dangerously close to her shaky, unshed tears. There was something the young woman was hiding, and Mon Mothma felt the sting of knowing that she herself was one of those responsible for teaching the princess how to withstand the most painful torture without succumbing to her interrogator. And if the princess could endure all that Darth Vader dished out to her, withholding information from the High Command would be as easy as Xiouc pie.
So Mon Mothma and the rest of the High Command, sans General Reeikan who walked out not too long after the interrogation of the princess began, had no choice but to milk all useful information out of Princess Leia. Mon Mothma pressed the cool glass against her forehead and closed her eyes. It was necessary… Necessary but not very fruitful. Not that such a revelation was any surprise. The princess had gone through far worse under the hands of Darth Vader, and Mon Mothma was certain that this time around was much worse than the time the child was held prisoner on the Death Star.
Could the High Command sink to such tactics against their own?
Mon Mothma swallowed down the bile in her throat but the rank taste would not be dissolved so easily. She emptied the contents of the tumbler with one swift gulp and grimaced as the cool liquid burned her throat. The benzodiazepines were necessary to relax the stressed child. It was for her own good and no ill-intention lied behind it. Mon Mothma herself could see Princess Leia's rapid heartbeat and the drops of perspiration on her forehead. The High Command was not a hostile threat to her—rather shouldn't be, but certainly after spending countless months being tortured by Darth Vader, Mon Mothma could see how the princess would feel as if the High Command intended to hurt her.
The Leader of the Rebel Alliance ran her tongue along the smooth hills and valleys of her teeth. It was indeed necessary. And the sodium thiopental, too, was a necessary component. The truth serum would help the girl remember things more easily, perhaps help her recall the most minute detail that could make the difference between a victory and a defeat, and the girl did not want to see the Rebellion destroyed. The princess even agreed to it, calming the irate smuggler for the briefest of moments with a single glance, though Mon Mothma couldn't help but notice a flicker of anger in that look. Yes, verbally Princess Leia had agreed. But her heart and spirit would not break, and that was something each member of the High Command should have known. No, it was something every single member of the High Command did know, but as with the highest ranked leader of the rebellion, they let their personal feelings get the best of them.
Maybe we did intend to hurt her…
To her relief it hadn't reached that point where she and the High Command had to soil their hands with the same dirt as the Emperor. They only had General Dodonna's foolishness to thank. If he hadn't insisted on debriefing Captain Solo in an adjoining room, who knows how far they would have gone? Mon Mothma put the tumbler down onto the hovering tray beside her plush chair and pushed herself out of its comfort.
General Dodonna incessantly insisted that Captain Solo be interrogated with the same techniques as the princess in an adjoining room, with the thought that if the princess did react…negatively that the man would be more forthcoming with information. The aging General foolishly assumed that the space worn smuggler would cave easily if he thought the princess was in distress. Solo always seemed overly protective of the young princess but Dodonna and Madine underestimated how deep those emotions ran. Mon Mothma shook her head as she walked to the window. She didn't fault them. She underestimated the Sabaac-faced man as well.
The memory of the moment replayed itself as a sharp headache at the back of her head and she closed her eyes against it. Did we do the right thing?
Mon Mothma had conducted the debriefing in a small windowless room with only one overhead light to illuminate the shadows, knowing full well how Princess Leia feared such an environment. General Madine fired rapid questions at the girl, repeating each question from time to time in hope that the former senator would reveal more information than she previously had. But Mon Mothma knew the princess would be honest and as detailed in her answers as she could be and neither of the High Command members would think she would intentionally hide anything. So why the truth serum?
It was necessary. It had to be done that way. Unfortunately, by the time the sodium thiopental began to work, the smuggler interrupted the session.
Captain Solo burst through the door with such force that Mon Mothma's heart skipped a beat. She touched her hand to her throat as she prepared a harsh reprimand, but seeing the bug-eyed General Dodonna trailing behind the irate man stifled any rational command she had left.
"Captain Solo!" General Madine stepped into Solo's path. "This is an outrage!"
"Glad ya' think so too!" He shoved his way around the general and stomped over to where the princess was seated. He scanned the restraints that cut into her wrists and growled at the medic beside her. Solo placed a hand on the girl's forehead. "You okay?"
Obviously, someone forgot to restrain the smuggler. He probably rebelled before anyone had the chance.
Mon Mothma's eyes widened and her lungs filled with air, but the gentle tone of the space weary smuggler and his careful manner rendered her speechless. The princess nodded up at him, and even though her large eyes were blurry with drugs, Mon Mothma could see how much the young girl trusted..loved?...the uncouth man. Time seemed to move like fkloko gel in an elbow pipe. She hadn't even realized that Admiral Ackbar had joined them and was speaking to her.
"Whaddya figure she'd hide from you?" Solo unwittingly saved Mon Mothma from an awkward moment.
"That's not what I'm implying," the Mon Calamari officer sucked in a harsh breath.
"So that's why yer usin' sodium thiopental to debrief her?" the smuggler stabbed a finger at the clear tube inserted in the princess' arm.
"Han," Princess Leia laid her free hand on the man's arm.
The veins in Captain Solo's neck tensed and throbbed and his eyes flicked between the princess and General Madine.
"Perhaps, Captain Solo," Mon Mothma's tense tone caught the attention of the rest of the room and all eyes fell on the smuggler, "you should step outside and compose yourself."
His eyebrows rose and his hands went to his hips. "Compose myself?" Solo spat. "Is this the way you treat your own people? She's not even a grunt. She's a member of the High Command!"
"Han," Princess Leia whispered.
This time he did not acknowledge her delicate admonishment. "Tell me. Whaddya think she didn't tell you already?"
The two generals and admiral looked to Mon Mothma. She held her chin tight and high and kept her ice blue eyes on the unruly captain, hoping that she put her colleagues at ease.
And once again, Captain Solo rescued her from another would-be awkward moment. He stormed up to the two generals flanking her but his eyes remained on her.
"I don't know, Captain," Mon Mothma smoothed her robes but never broke eye contact with the smuggler. "You tell me."
"I thold them---," Princess Leia slurred, and Mon Mothma inwardly cringed.
Solo's eyes narrowed, "Yeah. I know, Sweetheart."
General Madine stole a step and claimed a position that kept him between Solo and Mon Mothma, "You must understand how important this is."
"Yeah. Just like her," he took a moment and glanced back at the princess, and there was a nanosecond where he seemed to project his anger upon the very person he was protecting. He forced a breath out of his mouth and ran one hand through his hair.
"We aren't hurting her," General Dodonna chimed in.
"Doesn't look like that to me."
Ackbar sucked in a breath, "The princess understands—"
"Understands?" Solo's tone rose in pitch. "She risked her life more than once---no, more than any one of you have for the Alliance. The Alliance is the most important thing in her life. Why do you think she'd do anything to sabotage that?"
"We know Princess Leia would never knowingly—"
The smuggler's eyes widened and retracted, "Knowingly."
"Knowingly betray us," Mon Mothma continued where Madine left off. "These circumstances are different."
Admiral Ackbar's bulbous eyes rolled in their sockets and his large fin-like hands flew to his pristine white uniform. "Perhaps General Madine—"
"So," Captain Solo nodded his head and fingered his empty holster. "You think she enjoyed those last couple of months as Vader's prisoner."
"We're not at all implying that!" Mon Mothma's stern voice froze the room's occupants. She slowly inhaled a breath through her nose before continuing, "As you know, Darth Vader has taken a personal interest in the princess."
"Yeah, and I know firsthand she ain't too pleased about that. And I also know that she already told you how he tortured her and how she told him nothin' about yer selfish rebellion."
"Yes, you are right, Captain," Mon Mothma conceded. "But we need the tiny details. Can you understand that?"
Solo's face pinched, "What? You think yer gonna launch an all out attack on the hidden base Vader has on the outskirts of Coruscant? Yeah, take that over and Coruscant falls."
"It's not the information we are discussing," Dodonna corrected.
"What else is there?"
"Han…"
"No," he waved a hand in the princess direction. "I asked, what else is there?"
"There is the matter of her…parentage," Madine jutted out his chin and painted his lips with the slightest of smiles.
"Yeah," Solo matched the middle-aged general's expression. "Vader told her he's her father. You gonna take Vader's word for it?"
"Han…"
"We do not have to rely on the truthfulness of Darth Vader's words," Madine's cheek twitched. "We have DNA."
"DNA. Vader sent you a nice DNA sample?" Solo's hazel eyes glared at Madine. "How thoughtful of him."
"Captain Solo," Mon Mothma clasped her hands together with a stifled clap that captured everyone but the princess' attention. "As I'm sure you know, Princess Leia's biological mother is Padme Nabriee of Naboo who served on the Senate and was one of the founders of the Alliance of Free Planets. We have access to her medical files."
"And, let me guess? You have Vader's medical files as well."
"No, but we do have Jedi Anakin Skywalker's."
"How? The Jedi Temple was destroyed during the Jedi Purge."
"So you have had some history lessons, Captain," Madine arched a blonde eyebrow.
"General, that will do." Mon Mothma hissed. "Captain, we were able to recover some Jedi records thanks to the help of a Jedi Master who managed to escape."
"Obi Wan?" Solo shook his head.
"No," Dodonna cut in. "But who does not matter. The DNA tests unfortunately confirm Darth Vader's claim. And we have conducted a midicholorian count test."
"A what?"
"It's a test that calculates the Force-potential in sentient beings," Mon Mothma informed him with the calmest tone she could conjure at the moment, and she hoped that would be sufficient. "As you can guess, Her Highness has a very high count—"
"Cos Vader happens to be her father," Han finished. "So you're gonna punish her for the sins of her father."
An oppressive silence pressed down on the occupants of the tiny room. Mon Mothma cleared her throat, "Not at all. We just need to be thorough. You two have spent a large amount of time as Darth Vader's prisoners."
"You don't hafta remind me."
"As I was saying," Mon Mothma narrowed her steel eyes on Solo. "It was a considerable amount of time and you not only survived but managed to return to the Alliance."
"Sorry we lived."
"Please!" the rebel leader fought to contain her composure. "You must understand that we have to air on the cautious side."
"You think we're spies?"
"Of course not!" Ackbar interjected.
"Cos Vader, Anakin Skywalker, contributed his—"
"No!" each member of the High Command yelled.
"Darth Vader has taken a great interest in the princess," Mon Mothma continued. "We just need to be certain that he did not implant any…well, anything in Her Highness' mind. And now with her potential Force ability…"
"Ith haths to be done," Leia mumbled.
"No, Leia! It doesn't! It shouldn't!" He glared at Mon Mothma. "I've stood around long enough!"
"And that's why you should leave," Mon Mothma placed a hand on the man's arm but he effortlessly shrugged it off. "Even the princess knows this is necessary. As we said, she may not remember the small details that could make all the difference—"
"Yeah, yeah," Solo seethed, "for the survival of the Alliance. What about her survival?"
"She's been through worse," Madine shrugged.
"She's been through worse?" Han yelled. "Git that outa her," he pointed to the IV attached to the princess' arm. When the medic hesitated and looked to General Madine for permission, Han shoved the medic hard, slamming the poor, relatively innocent man against the wall.
"General Solo!" Admiral Ackbar sucked in a horrified breath.
"Enough!"
Han let go of the medic, his chest rising and falling as the perspiration collected on his chest. He stalked over to Madine and positioned himself centimeters from the middle-aged general face, "Yeah, enough."
Madine swallowed but refused to give the angry smuggler the satisfaction of a greater reaction. Han stared into the general's grey eyes for several seconds as the rest of the room's occupants held their breaths. Then Han took a step back but kept his glaring eyes on Madine.
"Unhook her," his low volume screamed of his disgust.
Madine gave a stifled nod to the medic who scurried over to the princess' side. The man's fingers fumbled over the I.V. and the girl winced in pain. Han shoved Madine aside as he went to her. General Madine's fist curled and he pulled his arm back, but Ackbar had enough wits about him to pull the general clear of Solo's range. Mon Mothma didn't have to guess who would win that fight, and she preferred Madine's features just the way they were.
Solo helped Princess Leia to a seated position with more delicacies than Mon Mothma would have given him credit, "I'm sorry, Leia."
"Why?"
He leaned close to her face as she rubbed her eyes with one hand. The highest ranked member of the High Command watched the smuggler's lips move but she couldn't hear his words and was vaguely surprised since it was so quiet they would hear a needle hit the floor. Perhaps at that moment they or she were caught up in their own thoughts to hear anything at the moment. Mon Mothma shook her head and her brow furrowed. However, the moment had passed and Solo had gathered the princess in his arms and carried her toward the exit, leaving everyone colored with shame.
To add injury to insult, the princess' large brown eyes glared at Mon Mothma as she peeked over Solo's shoulder and mumbled into his shirt.
You're wrong about one thing, you are more important than the Alliance.
You are more important. Did the princess' loyalties shift before or after her last ordeal with Darth Vader? Mon Mothma frowned. It didn't matter when. It happened, and for once Mon Mothma wasn't thinking about the Alliance. No, she wondered what it felt like to love a man more than an idea.
Just like her mother. And look what became of that.
Perhaps Mon Mothma and the rest High Command should have taken the advice of the old Jedi Master. Her face pinched as if her disgust was tangible. If it weren't for the Jedi, they wouldn't be in this mess now. How could they not know that Chancellor Palpatine was a Sith Lord? How could they not know about the illicit marriage between one of their most unstable Jedi and an Imperial Senator? The Jedi couldn't even keep their own house affairs in order. It's no wonder that a Sith Lord managed to escape their notice.
No greater mistake had been ever made. Mon Mothma pressed her hand against the warm glass of the window and watched the sky fall.
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Darth Vader took large but hesitant steps down the ramp of the ship, but once his shielded eyes adjusted to the bright light of the two punishing suns he felt himself paralyzed by the past. He had only reached halfway the length of the ramp yet the gritty pebbles of sand already bounced off his helmet. He swore that he'd never return to this God-forsaken planet, his home planet. Where I left my mother to die…
And for what? The Jedi, the Emperor, his disloyal wife, they all took almost everything from them. She's mine. Vader's teeth sunk into his tongue, and the bitter bite of anger flavored his blood.
Although he left his mother to die here on Tatooine, he would reclaim his daughter. Now all he had to do was to wait. Darth Vader smiled to himself. Princess Leia's destiny lain with his, and Tatooine was where their destinies merged. The Force was now on his side once again.