A few hours had passed. Ahsoka had dozed off, and Rex had gone to join Vader in the cockpit. Leia was staring out at hyperspace, her mind whirling. Trying to stave off another bout of useless, self-indulgent grief.

Ahsoka stirred. Too soon, by Leia's reckoning, given how much Ahsoka needed to rest. Automatically, Leia got up and went to pour Ahsoka a cup of water.

"You have questions," Ahsoka said when Leia handed it to her, sounding exactly as tired as she looked.

Leia sighed, sitting down across from her. She supposed she'd just have to get used to Force users who could sense her emotions. "I can ask them another time, when you have more strength."

Ahsoka took a sip from her cup, then set it down on the floor beside her. "War doesn't always allow for 'another time'," she said. "I want to help you, if I can."

Leia crossed her arms over her chest, considering how to word the question so as to not accidentally insult the older woman. "Vader doesn't lie to me," Leia said. "At least, he hasn't yet. But I'm not the kind of idiot who thinks his perspective is anything but warped. He said you were selfish because you left the Jedi Order. But...I'd like to hear your side of the story, if you're up for it."

"I'll probably never be up for it," Ahsoka admitted. "But you're right to doubt the judgment of one who's succumbed to the Dark Side, so I'll just have to suck it up." She took in a deep breath. Let it out. "About three years into the War, I was framed for a terrorist attack on the Jedi Temple. The Senate insisted that I be put on trial, and the Order expelled me in order to minimize the political fallout." She let out another breath, this one shakier than the last. "Anakin managed to find the real culprit before the trial concluded. Afterward, the Order offered to take me back."

"And you refused," guessed Leia. It's what she would've done in the same position, after all. Her father had always spoken highly of the Jedi. But it was clear now that he'd been simplifying matters because he'd still thought she was too young to appreciate the nuances. Her impressions of the Order based on her experiences with Kanan and Ezra were obviously not representative of what it had been like before the Republic fell.

"And I refused," Ahsoka confirmed. "I still believed in the Force. In the Light. But I had lost my faith in the Jedi." Her voice became quieter. "Anakin wasn't happy with my decision, but I still thought that he understood why I did it." A sigh. "And maybe he did, for a little while. But now all that's left is the resentment, because that's what the Dark Side does: it takes all the pettiest, most selfish parts of a person, amplifies them, and burns away everything else."

"Or maybe he was always this petty and selfish," said Leia. "Maybe he just stopped trying to hide it. Or be better."

Ahsoka shook her head. "I won't deny that Anakin was always rough around the edges. But his generosity, his compassion? Those were just as real as anything else. Anakin wasn't perfect by any measure, but he was a good man. I was proud to call him Master." She swallowed visibly. "And Vader wasn't wrong: my choice to leave the Jedi Order was ultimately a selfish one. I knew that Anakin was trapped in a system that was failing him just as much as it had failed me, but I couldn't find the patience to try and guide him to another path. I left him behind, even though I knew that I was one of the few people who might actually help him to break free."

Leia could sympathize with Ahsoka's feelings all too well. But, she also felt very strongly that Ahsoka was wrong. With a deep breath, she said, "After my Day of Demand, my parents finally let me lead humanitarian missions. The thing is, I wasn't content to just go around helping hungry people; I wanted to prove that I was ready to join the Rebellion." And, she was ashamed to admit, get her parents' attention. "So I got the bright idea to use my humanitarian efforts as a ruse to steal imperial ships." Her belly squirmed in shame."Without consulting my parents, naturally, because they were just so busy."

"Ah," said Ahsoka. "Perfidy."

"Right," Leia confirmed. "Of course, I didn't know it was perfidy at the time. I was just a dumb, overeager kid who hadn't read the materials on wartime ethics that my parents had given me because I found them too boring. And when I returned to Alderaan, triumphant, I expected my parents to be — well, maybe a little angry, that I'd put myself in danger. But proud, as well." She let out a weak little laugh. "I don't think my parents were ever angrier at me than on that day." They'd yelled at her about all the possible consequences. About the complaints they'd already received, and the suspicion it had already brought down on the Alderaanian court. "I tried to pass the responsibility onto others. Why had none of the rebel cells I worked with said something? Weren't they the experienced soldiers? But my father pointed out that none of them were Imperially-recognized royalty that could conduct official humanitarian work in the first place."

Her parents hadn't let her go on another mission for a year after that.

"My father said that he trusted me, not long before he—" Leia cut herself off, throat clenching painfully with a sharp, sudden grief. It had been the last thing he'd ever said to her, in fact, before he'd sent her off on the mission to retrieve the Death Star plans. That there was nobody better for the mission, because he trusted her more than anyone. There was a part of her that hadn't believed him, then. And now, that feeling had been validated; he clearly hadn't trusted her enough to reveal who her biological parents were. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Leia said, "But I wonder, sometimes, if my parents would still be alive if not for my carelessness back then."

"For what it's worth," said Ahsoka. "I doubt it made a difference. Bail was a brilliant man, but there's no way he could've kept his Rebel ties under wraps indefinitely."

Leia quirked an eyebrow at Ahsoka. It was an unconscious gesture, since she knew Ahsoka couldn't see it just yet. "That goes for you, too. You said you were framed, right? Well, whoever orchestrated that was probably trying to get you out of the picture. Do you think they would've just given up if you hadn't left when you did?"

"No," Ahsoka said, her mouth twisting downward. "He wouldn't have."

"The Emperor?" Leia guessed.

Ahsoka nodded. "The Chancellor, at the time."

"So, maybe your decision was selfish. But maybe it's the only reason you're alive to feel guilty in the first place."

Ahsoka let out a rueful breath of laughter. "Bail and Breha taught you well."

"They did," Leia said. "Even if I didn't always take those lessons to heart." Of course, one of those lessons had been recognizing when somebody was no longer emotionally equiped to continue a conversation. And Ahsoka had clearly reached that point, by the way her face had become drawn with fatigue and sadness. Leia had so many more questions. About the Dark Side. About the Emperor. About Vader.

But it wouldn't be fair to ask them now.

"Thank you," Leia murmured.

"Any time," Ahsoka replied.

Vader was almost thankful for Rex's company, when the clone came to join him. If only because it provided him with a distraction from his own spiraling thoughts.

Rex sat down in the co-pilot's chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. Vader was half expecting Rex to start talking about Ahsoka. Instead, Rex said, "You worked for the Empire for twenty years. You must'a noticed that something was off."

Vader frowned at him, shifting minutely in his seat. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Well, for starters, I wore Stormtrooper armor a few years back," said Rex, casually. "Do you know that it's impossible to aim in those helmets?"

Vader was aware of the issue. "The Imperial Navy has allocated more resources to constructing weapons than manufacturing armor." And Vader had no say in the matter.

"I'm sure that's true," Rex acknowledged. "But it's not like that's the only thing that's strange about how the Empire's run. Seems to me like Imperial officers get promoted due to practically everything but actual competence. And I don't know much about what it's like back in the Core these days, but the Empire punishes its Outer Rim territories whether they cooperate or not. Like they're actively trying to get people riled up." Rex frowned. "I'm a soldier. I understand better than anyone that sometimes there's no peaceful solution. But, as far as I can tell, the Empire actively avoids any course of action that doesn't involve as much suffering and violence as possible. Sometimes even at the expense of order." He stroked his beard. "Frankly, it doesn't make a lick a' sense. Unless there's something else going on. Something…Sith-related."

Ah, so that was Rex's angle. Vader couldn't help but be impressed, though he really should have expected it. Few Clone Troopers had as much experience with the Sith as Rex, and Rex had always been astute — it was what made him such an effective captain. "You're correct," Vader said. "The Emperor is a Sith Lord, and chiefly concerned with expanding his powers. For him, the Empire has always been a means to that end."

Rex nodded in understanding. "Makes sense." He quirked an eyebrow. "Does that mean you're on board with it, being a Sith yourself?"

"I wouldn't have turned against him if I was," Vader said. He'd be insulted, if not for the fact that he truly had done nothing about it for the past twenty years — besides disposing of as many incompetents as possible. He wasn't ashamed; he could see now that his acquiescence had been a necessity up to this point. Moving too soon due to outrage, and thus undermining his long-term goals, was the kind of weakness that he'd purged from himself. "The Sith are as arrogant and obsolete as the Jedi were, and shall meet the same fate. This has always been my destiny."

There was a surge of anger and sadness in the Force. "I won't pretend to understand why you came to hate the Jedi so much, or why you decided that every last one of 'em needed to die. But it was an awful thing, what my brothers were forced to do. What you helped 'em to do."

"It was awful," Vader agreed. To say that he'd come to hate the Jedi was a mischaracterization. With few exceptions, the purge hadn't been personal. "It was also necessary. And it makes no difference if you understand why."

Rex let out a sigh, running a hand over his bald head. A few minutes of tense silence passed.

Eventually, Rex spoke again. "I've never cared much about the politics of it all," he said, sounding calmer. "Clones were born to follow orders. To fight without worrying about the why of anything. But, after a while, most of us on the front lines learned that there was a good reason to fight the Separatists. We were proud to serve the Republic. Not because it was a democracy, but because it was the side of war that wasn't deliberately targeting civilians."

"Is there a point to this?" Vader asked.

"The point is: I don't give a damn about what kind a' system is used to run the Galaxy. I only care about whether it's being run well." Rex looked right at Vader, eyes filled with determination. "And if you're planning to put the Princess on the throne of the Empire, then you've got yourself an ally."

That was not one of the things that Vader had expected Rex to say, and he could sense that Rex meant it. Vader was tempted to ask why, but held himself back. It didn't matter.

Instead, he said, "Betray me, and I will make you suffer."

Rex gave him a wry quirk of his lips. "Roger roger, sir."