The overhead lights slowly turned on, bank after bank flickering with a soft buzz.
Zasi sighed, stepping aside the garage to let Leia file in, Vader after him, and then several other Rebels. Lando had insisted on coming along, though Leia suspected it was more for the glitter and glitz of the Tarisian Grand Prix, especially since he was relaxing with the few other Rebel soldiers that had come along. The vast majority of the forces were with Ahsoka at the carefully planned and structured mission. Leia was sure she would hear near-endless grumbling over the next few days from the troops about how they were on guard duty instead of anything more glamorous and exciting.
"It's not very much, but it's all the Shadowed Beks have." The quarren sighed. "That's the best swoop we have - and two more. If you need to strip them for parts, it's understandable, but if it's possible we'd rather have them intact so the Beks can at least have a showing..."
Vader said nothing, merely stepping into the wide garage, slowly pacing around the prized swoop as if it were some prey he was about to pounce upon.
"If there's any tools or parts that are needed - I'm not sure how much of a budget the Rebellion has for this operation, but we can send Bek runners for anything you need... familiar faces will keep suspicion down. And if -"
"No, this will do."
The quarren blinked slowly at Vader. "...er. I mean no disrespect, but - you haven't even looked in the cabinets yet, sir."
He gestured out towards one of the counters. "The stimcaf machine is in the garage instead of in some breakroom. That shows that someone competent has actually put in the hours here instead of pretending to work." He paused in front of the swoop, staring it down before going over and deftly ripping off an entire side-panel.
Leia saw the quarren flinch as if someone had just hit her across the face. "What - what are you doing?"
"Shedding weight." The panel hit the floor with a loud clatter, and Vader wasted no time, reaching into the machine to continue unhooking systems and tossing them aside. "Basic rule of racing. If the Beks don't know that, it explains why you've been doing so abysmally in races."
"You do realize this is a... an open-rules race. You're stripping out the blaster turrets! All the other racers will have weapons - you're stripping out the armor shielding - the crowd's not going to be satisfied unless there's at least one dogfight and racers die!"
"Miss... Zasi, was it? I trust you know who I am." He reached to his belt, and the red lightsaber blade snapped out into the air. "This is all I need. This... and two hours of uninterrupted working time." He finally looked back to the group as he twisted a dial on the lightsaber, the blade retracting to a small glowing nub perfect for cutting the heavy shielding free. "That was your cue to leave, by the way."
Leia got the point. And they left.
-
A few hours later, Lando Calrissian flopped down on the wide couch beside Leia. The accommodations were rather nice, even for the lower levels of Taris. The Shadowed Beks were progeny of one of the oldest gangs, and had the status and power to prove it. This meant that the wait leading up to the Taris Grand Prix was at least comfortable. She had been invited to sabacc games at least five times over the last day, but she preferred to review her reports from the rest of the Rebellion in peace. If it wasn't for the mounting anxiousness, it would have been a nice little vacation.
As Lando sat, her eyes flicked over to catch his expression - one of rattled despair. "What is it? Lose the latest sabacc game?"
"No..." Lando shook his head. "I went down to the garage. It's..."
Leia put down her datapad, immediately standing.
"No. No, you don't want to go see it. Trust me. You don't want to go see it."
"You realize that means I'm going to go to the garage immediately," Leia said with a smirk, dusting herself off.
"You really don't want to see what Vader's done to that speeder." Lando grimaced.
Leia just grinned. "If I'm not back in fifteen, go charge at Vader with blasters drawn."
It was good to stretch her legs, and she was in a good mood right up until the point the doors to the garage opened.
"...What in the seven hells of Corellia..."
To say it was a swoop bike was now somewhat inaccurate. There was the skeleton of a swoop, suspended from the ceiling with various ropes and supports. And there was a massive mess of... everything else. The engine itself was half disassembled on the floor, and all the boosters were half-on. Vader himself was hanging off of part of the rigging, knees hooked around part of the frame, suspended in midair. Rather gracefully, he leaned back, stretching upside-down to pluck yet another part from the floor. He obviously hadn't slept, his goatee was framed by stubble, and there was a smear of oil underneath one eye like war-paint. His hands were similarly covered in grease - it was the first time in a long while that she had seen him with his gloves off.
But the swoop... the swoop was just in bits all across the garage.
"You do realize that I can't work with interruptions," Vader said dryly, though his tone was obviously distracted as he examined several bolts, finding exactly the right one with deft and nimble fingers.
A small, shocked laugh spilled out of Leia's mouth. Dizzily, she made her way to the small stimcaf machine, pulling a mug out of the cabinet for herself and pouring a cup. "You do realize that the race is tomorrow, and you really do need a swoop to compete. They won't take it well if you show up and try to do the course on foot."
"Actually, Princess, I have until the end of the parade lap to get onto the course. That's more than enough time." Still that distant tone that let her know his attention was mostly elsewhere.
She sighed, putting down her cup and gesturing towards him. "I doubt that. You can't re-assemble this swoop and get a decent night's sleep. Have you even been stopping to eat? At least choke down a few of those awful ration bars. Believe it or not, I don't want to see you become a smear on some Tarisian race course because you were too busy to take decent care of yourself..."
"I have plenty of stimcaf. I'll be fine." Leia shook her head at this, turning around to grab one of the mugs of stimcaf on the counter. "There will be time to rest when - that's my cup of -"
It was a second too late. Leia had already taken a sip and immediately spluttered, coughing and squinting. "That - that is NOT stimcaf! That is sugar that happens to be black." Leia grimaced. "How can you DRINK this? It's... ugh!"
Vader actually surfaced from his work long enough to glare at her, snatching the cup from her hands using the Force, curled halfway to sitting, suspended from the rigging still. He finished off the mug before leaning backwards to set it on the floor and pick up another spanner. Leia made a series of faces before grabbing her own cup of stimcaf and drinking deeply to wash the sugar-sweetness away. It was not how she predicted Vader would take his stimcaf, but now that she knew...
He didn't say anything more. Perhaps there was a witty comeback, but he promptly forgot it as he sat up, perched on the skeleton frame of the swoop and diving into the guts of the machine yet again.
Leia watched him for a moment. It was actually comforting. She studied his face, not his hands. It was subtle, but it was there: he was happy. Underneath the frown of concentration was simple, childish joy. This is what he loved to do. Gears and bolts didn't argue. Engines did not have emotions. Electrical current went where it was directed. It was a world he was in control of, and it was something he understood. Behind the bluster and imposing blackness was a little boy who liked having all his spanners in a row, who just wanted to fix things and make them work and be useful again. Maybe the man he had grown into was a destroyer, but all the child wanted was to mend the world around him.
"Well, I guess I'll leave you to work," she said airily.
"Mmn." It was barely an acknowledgement. He was busy working, spanner in his mouth as he reached deep into the machinery.
That was good enough.