Thank you to my lovely beta, SpellCleaver! She has an AMAZING Luke Palpatine story on Tumblr that I binged. Go check it out!

Getting shot, even in a non-vital area, was no walk in the park. Once the numbness had worn off, the burning turned into stinging, throbbing, pulsing that she could feel throughout her entire arm. It wasn't the first time she'd been shot, and if she was honest with herself, it probably wouldn't be the last.

It was, however, the first time she had Darth Vader hovering over her as his personal med droid patched the wound up.

True to his word, the moment they'd docked on the Executor, he marched her to his own personal chambers. She'd barely had time to look at the giant chamber in the center of the room before he swept her into a very creepy but state-of-the-art medical center. He'd made an adjustment to the droid, then forced her up on the highly uncomfortable steel operating table, and then he stared at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

It was definitely not ideal.

But every protest was met with his mood darkening further. He didn't say a word beyond basic commands, and she'd given up complaining in the hopes that maybe he'd lighten up.

No. He absolutely didn't.

She did her best to try not to look pained as the droid expertly and carefully handled her wound.

"What did you do to the droid?" she asked, partly to distract herself, but mostly to get him to stop hovering and glowering in the corner. It was creepy as hell and she was sure she'd have nightmares about it.

"I modified some of its programming."

His tone suggested she not pry further. "Yeah, I got that, but what?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?"

"Yes." She waited for him to answer anyway.

Seeing that, Vader reluctantly replied, "I modified its patient handling personality."

If he told her that before the droid had begun on her, she might have assumed he programmed it to be rough. That's what Imperial med droids were known to do with especially valuable prisoners if they were sent in to clean them up. But this droid was as gentle as the droid who'd worked on Luke's hand.

"It wasn't already?" Because why would Darth Vader keep a droid that caused him pain? But then again, his operating table wasn't the epitome of comfort, either…

"I will not answer that." He meant it. And this time, she didn't bother pressing. She was starting to think she knew the answer already. For whatever reason, Vader preferred pain. Not only for those who failed him, or were his to torture, but he preferred it himself, too.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know why.

It occurred to her, then, that she didn't really know the extent of Darth Vader's...ailments. No one did. Most people thought he was more machine or monster than man. She'd seen Anakin Skywalker for herself, though, so she knew that wasn't true. But it was also obvious he needed the suit, and the abundance of medical equipment and lack of a bed suggested extensive injuries.

Vader seemed to pick up on those thoughts. "Kenobi cut off my limbs and left me to burn on the shores of Mustafar."

That was it. No explanation of why he and Obi-Wan were fighting (though she guessed it had to do with one being a Jedi and the other being a Sith). Not even an explanation of how he managed to survive-

"The Dark Side of the Force can allow the user to use pain to sustain them in dire circumstances, if necessary."

"Stop reading my mind."

"Stop projecting your thoughts."

She glared, realizing again that she knew so little about the gift Vader had passed on to her. "Why are you telling me these things?"

Vader was silent for a moment, and the droid finished working on her wound. "Procedure complete," it announced. "Redress daily with bacta patches for a week."

"Make that two," Vader added darkly, and the droid, sensing it was dismissed, hovered back to its charging station.

"That's overkill. It wasn't serious."

"Two. Weeks." He pointed at her.

Well. He wasn't asking her to do anything evil, and it wasn't more than a minor annoyance. She'd let it slide. "Can I go now?"

Vader tilted his head. "I have not answered your question."

"I didn't think you were going to answer."

He didn't acknowledge that. "You are my daughter. As such, there are certain things you have a right to know."

"And me knowing what happened to you is one of those?"

"On a basic level." When she raised her brows in question, he elaborated, "You would find out eventually anyway."

A cold feeling settled in her gut. She hadn't exactly made concrete plans for when this mess was over and Luke was under her safe watch, but Vader clearly did. They sounded much too permanent for her liking. "I think it's time for a reality check. We are not friends."

She wasn't sure how she expected him to react, but amusement was not it. "No. We are certainly not," he agreed.

Scowling, she clarified, "And we're not family either."

"Would you like for me to wake the med droid again for a paternity test?"

Who knew Darth Vader had a sense of humor? Dark as it was. Then again, his vocoder didn't allow for any amusement to be heard, so she wondered if no one picked up on it.

"It should be unnecessary, though. You already know the truth. And the fact you can feel my emotions is physical proof enough," he added, and now there was the expected annoyance.

"Our bond?"

"Yes."

"And it can't be broken." She glowered at him.

"No. Though I am shielding, so you are strong with the Force indeed if you can still get...impressions."

She didn't know what any of that meant, but he was distracting her from her original point. "You and I may be related by blood, but my parents will always be the Organas."

The amusement completely evaporated.

He physically tensed. "They stole you from me. They are thieves. They have no right-"

"They are my parents!"

She didn't know why she was bringing this up. She knew he wouldn't change his mind. It was probably better to pretend the conversation didn't need to be said; it would only make him more suspicious and therefore harder to escape from.

Yet she couldn't stop talking.

"They were the ones who raised me, who clothed and fed me, who gave me an education. They held me when I cried, they listened to me no matter how ridiculous I was being, they went to every parent-teacher meeting, to all of my sports and speech debates...they weren't perfect but they loved me enough to risk everything to protect me from you."

The temperature was dropping, but she didn't give a damn.

"You don't know how I would have raised you." It was said on a scoff, but it didn't hide that he was on the defense.

"Maybe not, but I know what you have done!" She needed to stop. This wasn't a conversation that was at all helpful. Nothing could be changed, and yet… "You tortured me! You forced me to watch as Tarkin blew up my home! You have done nothing but tear down everything I have ever tried to work for!"

"You're a Rebel, it's my job."

It was true, but it didn't make it any less important. "You think my parents agreed with everything I did?! Of course not! But they didn't actively discourage me anyway! And they certainly didn't try to kill me when they didn't agree!" She slid off the table, and she didn't miss the way Vader tensed further as he watched her every move.

"I released your smuggler. I've trusted you enough to allow you to accompany me on missions, though your injury is making me rethink that." He crossed his arms. "I am cleaning up your mistake with your brother. I cannot change the past. What more do you want from me?!"

As much as his words stung her, made her want to punch the buttons on his chest plate-whatever that would do- he had a point. She had a feeling he'd never offer even a useless apology for the scars he'd left on her. If there was one thing she'd learned about him, he was a man of action. Getting him to use his words was like pulling teeth from a raging gundark. His actions were more consistent with the stories she'd heard of Anakin Skywalker than of Darth Vader.

And maybe that was it.

She wanted to hate him. It would be easier if he was only the man who'd destroyed her life. But his actions and the impressions she got from him spoke of someone far more complicated, and she didn't know what to think.

She could have lied, or followed his example and simply stopped talking to him, but instead she admitted, "I don't know what you are to me, Lord Vader. It's not a father figure, that's for sure. It's not entirely an enemy, either. Regardless, you would do well to remember that there is nothing you can do to make me forgive you for Alderaan. Nothing. This relationship is strictly professional. I'd prefer it if you kept it that way."

He was silent, which...could technically mean a lot of things, when it came to him, and she tried to clumsily read his feelings. This time, however, she felt nothing. Whatever it was, she had a feeling he was doing...that shielding thing. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but she never got to find out. His comm beeped, and he used that as an excuse to drop the subject.

"What?" His voice, even with the vocoder, was clipped.

A crisp Imperial accent reached her ears. "Lord Vader. The shuttle using clearance code LT-231 has requested to dock in your personal hangar."

Leia tensed, her hand unconsciously going to touch her wounded arm.

Han.

Had he done it? She was confident he could, but even she had to admit things often went awry when Han was involved. She wouldn't ever tell Vader that, but she couldn't help but be worried.

"I am expecting them," Vader dismissed. "Allow them to board."

"It will be done." Vader moved to turn off the comm, but the Imperial wasn't done yet. "There's something else, my lord."

Now the annoyance was obvious, and Leia was sure she'd felt him debating...well, she didn't know exactly, but she had a guess. "Speak. I don't have time for nonsense."

"The Emperor requests that you contact him at your earliest convenience."

The words hung in the air. She fought back the flash of hatred for the despot, and surprisingly, she found her emotions echoing Vader's.

She frowned at him curiously. He was the right hand of the Emperor. The enforcer of the Emperor's will. Everyone knew that. And yet...he hated the Emperor just as much, if not more, than she did.

Perhaps Luke wasn't the only person they shared views on.

She didn't know how to feel about that either.

"I will contact him immediately," Vader snapped, then shut off the comm before the Imperial could continue. Then, before Leia had a chance to ask any questions, Vader pointed at her. "Go talk to your Solo. Find out if he succeeded, then prepare the information for my review. I will be there shortly."

She blinked, watching him as he turned to head for the door. "You're just...going to let me do that?"

Vader paused at the door. "I trust that you care more about Luke than escaping, considering his...condition."

He was right. She did, but…

Vader turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "Our interests are aligned. I believe that makes us temporary...colleagues."

She didn't miss the spike of fury before it was quickly smothered.

Colleagues didn't quite feel right regarding their relationship either, but...it was the closest thing she could think of.

If Mon Mothma could see me now, I'd be kicked out of the Rebellion and labeled a traitor.

She tried not to think about that, either. Instead, she let loose a breath she didn't remember holding, and nodded. "Have fun with the Emperor."

And despite his clear dislike for his Master, she again thought she felt humor from him. "I'll see what I can do."

And with that, he swept from the room.

It was inevitable. He'd always known that. But damn, the Emperor had the worst timing.

Knowing him, it was probably timed perfectly. He just hoped it was timed with something else in mind, something that had absolutely nothing to do with Luke.

He shoved all thoughts of Luke and Leia and that stupid smuggler as deep as he could while reinforcing his shields. He punched in the Emperor's comm and knelt before the holo pad, head bowed, and for good measure focused his thoughts on things that would make him enraged.

The Rebellion slipping from his grasp. The war dragging on and on. Being forced to deal with pompous, idiotic officers given their positions because of bribery or lineage.

Choking his wife for betraying him...when she hadn't.

Luke throwing himself into slavery, only to be lost and seriously injured, out of his reach.

Leia refusing to view him as her father.

And his inability to blame her for it.

The list was uncomfortably long, and by the time the Emperor deigned to answer, his wrinkled, cloaked face flickering above him, he was definitely furious and self-loathing.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

The words were ash in his mouth.

Master. Slave.

Luke's words from their confrontation repeated in his mind, especially now that he was literally kneeling before...his master.

Slave.

"Lord Vader." On the surface, the Emperor's voice was friendly. Conversational. But Vader knew otherwise. "How goes your search for information on your son?"

"Unfinished." Of course he'd ask about that, but that didn't mean he wanted to discuss his son in any way with the man.

"You destroyed a Rebel base, last I heard. Congratulations are in order."

Vader said nothing. He knew just as well as Sidious did that one Rebel base meant nothing for the overall war effort. He refused to think of the Rebellion leader a few rooms away…

The Emperor continued. "Since then, the Executor's logs are rather...sporadic. None of the locations seem rather important."

The best lies were told with a kernel of truth. "The boy took quite a few detours."

The Emperor frowned, and Vader didn't miss the dark tendrils probing his presence, seeking out whatever he wished to find. He allowed him only to see snippets that would corroborate his story, holding his breath.

Finally, the tendrils drew away.

"I see."

He couldn't read the Emperor's expression, nor the flat tone of his voice. Did he suspect? Or had he expected more?

"Well. I trust you have done enough searching. There is a war, after all, and someone decided to off Jabba the Hutt."

He forced himself not to react.

Someone.

He'd expected this. Of course it would have drawn the attention of the Emperor.

"The Hutt clan is now a dying syndicate. The sector is wide open, and Rebels have already begun moving in to take advantage. We must secure Imperial power before that happens."

He was right. As much as he hated to admit it, Hutt Space controlled multiple important shipping lanes through the Outer Rim. Many of the planets were strategic locations in the war effort, as well. It was smart to secure it, and Death Squadron had enough firepower to accomplish it.

And yet.

"It will be secured, my Master." Again, that was true. He would order the rest of Death Squadron to secure the sector. "However, I will not be joining them."

Bold. Oh, so bold. But not telling the Emperor he had no intent to join them would only lead to more problems, and there was no way in hell he was going to stop searching for Luke, not when he was so injured. By the way the Emperor's expression froze, Vader knew he did not approve.

"Lord Vader." The words were polite, but the tone patronizing at best. "I did not realize your search for your dead son was more important than the safety and security of my Empire."

He allowed himself to flinch, but he did not back down. He couldn't.

Luke's safety was on the line.

"Your bidding will be done. My squadron does not need to be babysat: they are capable of accomplishing this task. My search for information on Skywalker has not concluded, and I believe there is much to be learned that may have vital consequences for the Empire."

"Is that so?" Vader didn't like the way that was said, and he definitely didn't like those golden eyes narrowing on him. "What vital consequences are you talking about, Lord Vader?"

The best lies were based in a kernel of truth. He repeated that to himself over and over again as he replied, "Skywalker was partly trained when I faced him on Bespin. I believe he had a teacher."

He hadn't actually given much thought to that, but it made some sense. His training was still extremely sparse and nowhere near the level it needed to be, but it was true he'd been better prepared compared to their previous encounters. It was a disturbing thought, and he wondered if Leia knew anything about it.

But that didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was that Sidious at least appeared to take the bait. "Perhaps he practiced on what Kenobi taught him."

"I don't believe he actually knew Kenobi long enough, Master." He didn't mention he only knew that because Luke told him. "There is another source. Perhaps an ancient library we overlooked, or worse."

"Another Jedi," Sidious surmised, and his expression twisted in malice. "And you think this...source might be used against us by the Rebellion?"

"I am not willing to risk it. Skywalker did enough damage. We don't need the Rebels causing more."

Sidious considered for a moment, and again Vader felt those tendrils probing him. He waited, allowing him to see the truths he wished to see, before finally the Emperor scoffed. "Fine. Do as you wish. Destroy this source, and immediately join back with the rest of your squadron."

Vader bowed his head, trying not to let any relief bleed through his shields. "It will be done, my master."

Slave. Master. Slave.

"Oh. One more thing." It took every fiber of his will power not to tense at those words, especially as the Emperor continued, "Our spies in the Rebellion have not recently heard or seen Organa. It is as if she disappeared. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Does he know?

No. If he knew Leia was in his possession, and worse, that she was his daughter, he'd order for him to return to Coruscant immediately. He couldn't know.

But the vision replayed in his head. Leia's red saber, her golden eyes. Luke throwing himself between them to stop them…

"Nothing more than our spy reports."

Buy it.

If he could will the Emperor to believe him, he would. He had to protect his children at all costs. He would not lose them again…

"Pity. I suppose we will find out Organa's fate in due course." He sounded like he was moving on, but Vader wasn't sure. There was little reason for him to bring her up unless he suspected something. He willed himself to stay angry, to stay focused, if only to keep the Emperor from sensing that he was hiding something. "You are dismissed."

Vader kept his head bowed until the hologram shut off, and he was alone once more.

Only then did he allow himself to release his panic.

So this chapter was meant to be longer, but I had very little energy last week. It was about as much as I could do, and hey. It's a good stopping place anyway!
Poor Vader. He just couldn't catch a break this chapter. And while Leia's speech is pretty much...not...very bonding...it still sort of ended up being bonding because she really needed to get that out there. Poor Leia. POOR SKYWALKER FAMILY. I don't even know how any of them have survived this long, tbh.
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