Leia Organa woke up to sounds of Droid buzzing, and almost immediately leaped from her position.
[Miss!] The Droid before her yelped, startled at her sudden movement. She almost yelled as well, the image of the torture droid still fresh in her mind. Backing herself to the nearest wall, it took her awhile to calm her drumming heart and focus her eyes onto the Droid before her.
Green-white—its color was green-white, not grey-black.
[Miss?] Asked the droid in binaryspeak, tone gentle and careful. [Did I do something that hurts you?] It continued, earnestly, approaching Leia with the most timid of movement.
Leia leaned over, slightly, eyes narrowing. "You're not—" She said, her voice dry and croaky, "You're not the torture Droid from before." She assessed, her tone unsure. From her peripheral, she saw a cracked metal pile of grey and black, and wondered—was that where the previous one went for his failure to extract information from her? Discarded and replaced by the newer model?
In fact, everything around her was—cracked; broken, somehow. The metal coat of the wall chipped, some of the wiring were bent and snapped, like someone had destroyed this room. The only remaining smooth surface was the metal bench she was residing on, and something swirled within her, as if trying to tell her something—something important.
Hearing her statement, the Droid seemed to be highly offended—or as offended as a Droid could be. [Certainly not!] it had protested. [My name is SH-4 and I am the Empire's latest innovation for medical Droid. I would never be designated to inflict pain, much less for such unfortunate reasons!]
Wait—medical Droid? Leia blinked—once, twice. "Not a torture Droid?" She asked again, trying to be sure.
The Droid beeped in indignance, a rather dramatic move for a Droid, if Leia could say. [Good grief, no!] It wheeled front and back, opening compartments that contained pills and gauzes and bandages and standard surgery tools. [Does this look like an equipment for a torture Droid for you?]
"Does it?" Leia echoed, now amused more than anything, "with this Empire, one can't ever be so sure." She narrowed her eyes, then, because now that the fear had subsided, it was replaced by something else; curiosity. "Who sent you here?"
Because this little Droid, chirpy and adorable and eager as it was, couldn't possibly roll itself into the room and decided to take care of a random prisoner, could it?
[Well, I am fetched by Trooper DG-5467—]
"who?"
[—under the instructions of Lord Vader—]
"Who?!"
Leia's yelp startled the Droid, and the little bot made unintelligible beep-bop that made Leia's already pounding head growing even dizzier. [Miss, you're startling me!] protested it, whirring around in circles as Leia sat there, stunned.
Vader had sent a medical Droid for her? For what?
[Miss? You're growing very pale. Are you—]
"What is your designation?" Croaked Leia, as she backed away from the Droid instinctively. "Your instructions, what was it?"
The Droid—SH-4, was it?—tilted its head, as if curious. [Why to nurse you, of course,] it beeped in binary. [I was given the orders to not leave your side until you regain your optimum physical health!] It's claw hand pointed at Leia's hand, then, and Leia's gaze trailed the direction. [That's why I was fixing your right metacarpophalangeal and interphalangeal joints. I have also drained some of the potions in your system, though some of them may linger and make you nauseous...]
Leia narrowed her eyes at her knuckles; bandaged neatly and carefully, with a distinct smell of disinfectant oozing from the wrap. She could feel a faint stinging on her part, a sign that the wound had not fully healed yet, but it was well on its way to recovery.
She turned to the Droid, eyebrows raising in suspicion. "Who gave these orders, SH-4?" She asked, almost accusative.
[Oh, Dear, did the young Miss hit her crania? Because I am 98.7% sure that I have mentioned of Lord Vader's instructions before—]
Wait, what?
Leia closed her eyes, her good hand rising, extending her fingers in surrender, "hold up, hold up." She said, shaking her head, and only then noticing how dizzying it was for her to do that. "Vader?" She asked, incredulously. "Vader himself told you to nurse me?"
[Affirmative, Miss.]
"He didn't give you any other orders?"
[Such as—?]
"Oh, I don't know!" Leia bristled, frustration surfacing to the cracks now that there was no one—well, no organics, at least—to supervise her. "To shoot me when I'm not looking; to poison my food with another hallucinogens; to threaten me with a knife—didn't you have a knife? In that small compartment of yours?" Leia narrowed her eyes at the little Droid suspiciously.
[The knives at my disposal are surgical knives! Used only for emergency purposes!] The Droid was now being very defensive. [And my instructions are clear, Miss; it is to only nurse you until you are at your best physical health, and oversee that nothing jeopardizes your recovery.]
This time, Leia couldn't help it; she laughed—almost cackled, actually—until her throat were hoarse and her mouth bitter and her stomach sick. She laughed until she heaved, because Vader?
He was the one who tried to save her?
[Is something humoring you, Miss?]
"No, no, it's just—" Leia was almost hysterical when she spoke again. "This has got to be a joke, right?" She said, scooting over with a wild grin.
[Beg your pardon?]
"Him! Telling you to do this!" Leia's hands flailed around, trying to emphasize what she meant; the bandaged knuckles, the ration bar at the corner of the bench, hell, even the water, she just realized; a full jug of them, just for her. "This is another one of his manipulation isn't it? He'd build me back up and lure me into a false sense of safety, wishing my defenses would weaken in trust and then—" Leia snapped her fingers, "he'd torture me again, just like he did the last time, won't he?"
SH-4 beeped, almost worriedly. [Miss, I don't think you should work yourself too much—] it tried to reason, mechanical limb trying to reach Leia's arm to catch it as gently as possible, attempting to put the wounded hand in place.
"Don't touch me!" Leia almost shrieked, standing immediately to avoid the Droid. It seemed nice, and harmless, but Leia couldn't afford to trust it—or anything and anyone else in this base, really, because they were all Imperials and they were her enemies.
They wanted to torture her, ruin her to shreds just mere hours ago—and now they were trying to heal her in good faith?
No, she didn't buy that. Vader would be stupid if he thought she'd buy that.
She was about to open her mouth again to say something, when the cell door opened—and two stormtroopers arrived, their guns at ease but still threatening nonetheless.
"Princess." They said, monotonously. "The Governor is expecting you at the viewing deck." One of them continued, standing still by the door.
Leia narrowed her eyes at them, her anger and spite rising up upon the mention of the title. She had an inkling to who the officer was, and she spitefully told them, "Well the kriffing governor can shove it right in his—"
"This is not an invitation, princess." Said the other guard, and suddenly they were mauling her; grabbed her by the arms and dragging her out forcefully, leaving the door locked behind them. Much like they did the first time they caught her from her ship. Leia's protests died in her throat when one of the blasters were pressed onto the nape of her neck. But really—should she be surprised?
The viewing deck was clear, buzzing with people getting things done. Someone announced that they were entering the Alderaanian system, and Leia's heartbeat skipped, her stomach knotting.
Something in her gut told her that something about to be very, very wrong.
"What are we doing in the Alderaanian system?" She asked, her voice slightly shaky as she turned wildly at the stormtroopers beside her.
"To pay a visit on one of our sub-governments, of course." A voice answered her from the far side of the deck, and Leia turned to see the Grand Moff Tarkin, tipping his hat to her in mock-salute. "Princess."
Ah. So her guess was right, then.
Beside him, Vader had turned as well, his masked eyes turning into her direction. Leia fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, forcing herself not to wonder what was in his head, especially since—
"The woman—in your dreams; who is that!?"
Something, clawing its way to close her windpipes, preventing her to breathe and she choked, gasped and spluttered from the pain—
"Don't lie to me!"
Leia gulped, shoving all the frayed nerves into the pit of her stomach as she was dragged to face him. "Governor Tarkin." She turned all her attention to the Governor instead, hoping that no one noticed the crack in her voice, or the slight gloss in her eyes, "I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board."
From her peripheral, she could see Vader—flinching?—at her words, as if she had personally offended him. Tarkin's smile dimmed as well, turning sour at her insinuation. Well, Leia amended—she had no business taking care of feelings of two tyrants. This war was of their own making, after all. They had deserved whatever insults coming their way.
Tarkin rolled his eyes at her, giving her a smirk. "Charming to the last." He sneered, and Leia gave him a smirk in return. "You don't know how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life."
Oh. Oh.
So she really was going to die.
Leia's gut twisted into something painful and unrecognizable, as she fought to swallow the bile that came rising in her throat. Death.
All she could think of was the woman in her dreams—her mother; with her beautiful sad smile. At the back of her mind, she wondered how the woman would feel; her daughter dying at such an early age, at such a tragic way.
("Proud," she could almost hear her say, if she tried to listen, "I'm proud of you, Leia.")
"I'm surprised—" she tilted her chin, despite the fear and dread filling her system. She would not let him have the last words on her, "that you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself." Her words came out slightly shaky, but she held high, looking at Tarkin defiantly.
Tarkin laughed, shrugging, like the matter of her death was as simple as a matter of the weather today. He looked away to his men, as if signaling, can you believe this little girl, and Leia's fury only grew, spreading through her veins like wildfire.
Vader, on the other hand, seemed to be unnaturally tense at Tarkin's words, his eye-holes glued to her the whole conversation. Leia wondered if he was the one tasked to kill her. A fitting job—after all; what was a mercenary with no target?
"Princess Leia, before your execution, I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that'll make this battle station operational." Tarkin's voice pulled her out of her reverie, and Leia blinked, turning her attention from Vader to him. Tarkin looked especially smug as he continued. "No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."
Leia glanced around at the fuss—she could recognize what this place was; a command control for attacks. She could see, from the clear viewing deck, how one limb of this ship had been idly pointing at random since the very beginning, as if playing eenie-meenie-miney-moo to pick its target.
Her entire body grew cold.
Pressing her lips tight, Leia scrambled to gain as much composure as she could muster. "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin," She spoke, tauntingly, "the more star systems will slip through your fingers."
Tarkin actually cackled at that, like Leia was just some petulant child naively suggesting an impossible idea to her amused parents. "Not after we demonstrate the power of this station." He said, slyly, "In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that'll be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on—" He trailed his eyes to the biggest planet that was facing the window—the one adorned with lush greeneries and clear blue water, the planet Leia knew oh-so-well. "your home; Alderaan."
Leia's knees nearly buckled at that, all colors drained from her face. No, no, no, no, no no nonononono— "Alderaan is peaceful!" no not my home not my people not my family not my entire life— "We have no weapons, you can't possibly—"
Everything around her was swirling, building up tension as Leia's breath hitched, her chest constricting. She felt buzzing around her—the buzz that always came whenever something big was about to happen, something definitive, something life changing.
Not Papa not Mama not Winter not—
Tarkin clicked his tongue, rather impatiently. "Then you would prefer another target, perhaps a military one, would you not?" He taunted. "Perhaps—your rebel base?"
All the cells in her body screamed for and against her, conflicting and warring one another as Leia made the most important decision in her lifetime.
Alderaan or Yavin?
Her home or the rebellion?
'Tell him Leia,' a voice rang in her head, telling her urgently, 'tell him, if it could perhaps buy some time for your safety—'
But no, wait, that wasn't her voice, it was a man's, accented and desperate and calling her name with an odd-sound, almost like—like Layah, not Leia. Whoever owned the voice, he was fearful—she could feel desperation spilling through, the want to reach her, to warn her, to—protect her?
"I grow tired of asking this question, Princess, where is—"
"Dantooine!" Leia almost yelled her answer, internally shielding her mind to prevent any of them—but especially Vader—from verifying her answer. She remembered Dantooine from her diplomacy lesson; deserted and wasted planet with no organic occupants—they could do. "It's in Dantooine." She heaved, glaring at Tarkin with glassy eyes, cheeks flushed with emotions.
Nodding, Tarkin turned to Vader with a rather large grin. "There, you see, Lord Vader? She can be reasonable." He said, with tone for pleasantries, before turning to the people in the cockpit, almost boredly saying. "Continue with the operation, gentlemen; fire at will."
"What?!"
And then—a fireball appeared in her peripheral, and Leia instinctively turned to see just in time as the shot delved its way closer, and closer, and closer, and—
The space was an empty vacuum of a place, and no sound could travel with the absence of a medium, yet somehow, as her planet shattered into little pieces, Leia could hear every single scream; fear, desperation, anguish. They all tore her conscience, shredded her guts to little pieces as she trembled from the shock.
Leia blinked once, and then it was silent.
Alderaan was no more.
No, no, no, no, no—
Tarkin spoke some more, but Leia's mind was—was loud; deafening, filled with too much distraught and despair to process the words, or anything else, really, because it was her home, her people, the Empire just committed genocide to her people—
"—akh!"
It took Leia a while to process what had happened; her fist hitting Tarkin's face, her bandaged knuckle stinging as the bleeding start anew. It took Leia even longer to process the tears streaming down her cheeks, or the tremble on her lips, or the buzz around her, jabbing and filling her senses.
And Tarkin—Tarkin was slammed, several meters away, looking as stunned as she felt.
How—?
The impression didn't last long, though, as Tarkin scrambled to stand and spit on the ground, red with—blood, just like those people in Alderaan, bleeding, torn and destroyed because of her. She did this, she caused their death, she— "Why, Princess," Tarkin hissed, dangerously, as she stared at him with blurred eyesight and flushed cheeks, "Who would have known that Bail and Breha Organa had produced such a little brat?"
Him mentioning Mama and Papa's name made her blood boil. Leia stared at Tarkin intensely, lower lip bit down so hard it drew blood, and she wanted to do it again, wanted to punch him again, for as much as her hand would allow her, because that was her home, her people, her family—her mama papa sister friends—
And then suddenly, suddenly Tarkin was—flying?
Leia blinked, and—no, floating; something, someone—had lifted him mid-air. His smug face contorted into something akin to pain, as his hands clawed his throat for something, as if—
Leia turned to Vader, who, for the first time since she had arrived here, had averted his gaze from her. Instead he was staring up at Tarkin, right hand raised in a squeezing motion, and suddenly Leia felt a memory resurfacing from a slightly earlier time in cell number 2187, where it was her instead, floating mid-air as Vader—as Vader clogged her respiratory system.
A faint feeling prickled her throat, and Leia swallowed dryly, stunned shock in the way Vader's hand ruthlessly crushed without much of a thought. She could feel his anger, even here, tasting it thick on her mouth, breathing it in with air. Tarkin gasped for several seconds before crumpling to the ground, motionless—lifeless. It took Leia a split second of frozen silence before—
'Leia, run!'
That voice again, echoing in her head. Leia didn't waste time musing on who the hell it was, thinking hey, maybe she'd finally lost her goddamn mind—and elbowed both guards on her side before picking one of their blasters and sprinted to the alley where she came from. She didn't look back, not having the guts to see if anyone else was chasing her as she went away.
If she did, she might have seen the source of her mysterious phantom voice, there; standing in-between the commanding deck and the hallway she had disappeared into—standing to shield her.