Appenza
Chapter 1 – The Lone Fighter
Darth Vader stood by the exit hatch with a scowl. He heard the hiss of propulsion jets, slowing the shuttle to a gentle stop on the hangar bay floor. The hatch door swung upward and a ramp unfurled. Vader inclined his chin as he watched and waited, gauntleted fists clenched behind his back. An assignment as trivial as this was beneath him, but the Emperor had insisted he attend to it personally. He did not dare object, but internally Vader was seething. Why was his master wasting his time with this? Surely ISB was more than capable.
"Ah, Lord Vader. Welcome to Palaam."
The officer's voice was high. He was no doubt terrified, and doubly confused that Darth Vader himself had come to inspect his second-rate academy on this backwater world in the Outer Rim.
"Your name," Vader requested, standing still at the top of the ramp.
The officer gulped. "Helmut Roth, sir. Colonel and former commander of the 201st Fighter Wing."
Vader looked the man over. He was fresh-shaven as all Imperial officers were, and considerably younger than his rank suggested. His forehead shined with flop sweat and his fingers fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve.
"Former commander, you say?" Vader said. He flourished his cape and began descending the ramp. Vexed as he was by this assignment, he did find some satisfaction in making officers squirm. Catharsis, more like. "Why did you leave that position?"
Roth craned his head to Vader who now loomed above him, a long shadow cast over the trembling officer. "I resigned, sir. My wife became ill and I wanted a stable position."
Vader was silent. He stared at Roth without so much as blinking, not that the man would be able to tell if he did. His mask was unreadable, unfailingly terrifying. Men cowered before the specter that was Darth Vader, harbinger of death and ruthless enforcer of the Emperor's will.
"My condolences, Colonel."
Roth blinked in bewilderment, but Vader didn't spare him any mind, pushing past the officer and marching away from the shuttle.
"Uh… my lord!" Roth came running after him. "We, ah… we are honored by your visit."
"I am sure," Vader said dryly.
"We have arranged a demonstration for your benefit."
Vader shot the man a look. "A demonstration?"
"Yes, my lord. A practice exercise. The students are eager to –"
"I have no time for theatrics."
"Forgive me, Lord Vader, but I think you might want to watch this."
That earned his attention. He came to a stop by the blast doors and turned to Roth. "What do you mean, Colonel?"
Suddenly coy, Roth extended a gloved hand. "If you would follow me."
Vader did not enjoy being trifled with. His fingers twitched, but he suppressed the urge to grab the man's throat. Something about Roth's tone had piqued his curiosity. What was it he wanted Vader to see? Could it be that Palaam was not as insignificant as he originally presumed?
"Very well. Lead the way."
Roth clicked his heels and saluted. He turned to direct Vader through the labyrinthine hallways of the academy. Vader followed a pace behind, all complaints about this assignment falling by the wayside. He was alert, eyes darting back and forth, breathing apparatus amping up slightly. By all visual measures, there was nothing special about the academy on Palaam. The halls were sterile and black. It looked entirely like countless other Imperial institutions dotted throughout the Empire. But something unique lingered somewhere within this base. It was indescribable, enigmatic, yet Vader had caught the scent, and now there was nothing he wouldn't do to figure out what it was. Perhaps the Emperor had sensed this before him. That must be why he had assigned him this seemingly mundane mission.
"We do not receive the same sort of funds as Skystrike Academy," Roth said. "Not even close, really. But I assure you, the pilots graduating from Palaam are just as qualified."
Vader remained silent. Was it possible Roth did not know the real reason for Vader's visit? Then again, neither had Vader. Not until now, that is. He had thought he was here to root out an alleged Rebel insurrection amongst the students, but clearly there was more to it than that. What specifically, Vader still did not know. He had less than an inkling. Just a feeling, a tingle more like, but whatever it was, Vader could tell it was significant.
The colonel continued: "Our pupils typically hail from less affluent families. Most of them are from Outer Rim worlds. As such, they do not enjoy the same sort of patronage as graduates from Skystrike or other prestigious branches of the Imperial Academy. Perhaps your visit might change that, Lord Vader."
He sounded confident. Whatever Roth had in store, he must be sure it would impress Vader. "Perhaps, indeed," Vader chose to say.
They arrived in a spacious room with a broad, curving viewport on the west wall. Vader scanned the room, taking note of the many command stations. It looked like a facsimile of the bridge on an Imperial Star Destroyer. Each station was being manned by uniformed students, all of whom turned to salute when Vader entered the room.
"At ease," Vader rumbled. He turned to Roth at his flank. "Most impressive," he appraised. "Your preparation is duly noted."
Roth bowed his head. "Thank you, my lord." He turned to the bridge. "Let the exercise begin!" he called.
Bright lights flashed as the stations all came on line. Roth marched down the bridge and barked out a few orders to the students. Vader followed at a leisurely pace, taking care to read each and every student. He sensed nothing but fear. That was typical.
Vader reached the head of the bridge. He folded his arms and gazed out at the presently empty space in front of them. "I thought this was a flight school, Colonel," he said. "Why are these students performing officer-level tasks?"
"As I was saying earlier, Lord Vader, we do not enjoy the same level of recognition as other academies. My students are all trained as pilots, yes, but I insist that they specialize in another field in case they are not accepted into the Fighter Corps."
"You prepare your students for failure?"
"Not at all, my lord. I merely wish to give them the greatest possibility to succeed."
Vader frowned beneath his mask. Roth seemed like a well-intentioned man. Perhaps it was for the best that he had relegated himself to Palaam. Vader had no doubt he would be eaten alive in the Core Worlds; for he possessed the most abhorrent quality of all: compassion.
"Sir! Incoming enemy fighter!"
Vader squinted out the viewport. Amidst the twinkling backdrop of stars was a single fighter. It looked to be a TIE, but clearly some modifications had been made. The wings, typically two square panels, were instead triangular, much like an Interceptor, but the edges were sloping and painted a fiery red. Who was responsible for this design? In some ways, it looked like Vader's own personal fighter.
"Deploy Alpha and Beta Squadrons," Roth ordered.
Vader scoffed. "But there is only one fighter. Do you typically empty your hangars to deal with insignificant threats?"
Roth smiled. "Insignificant? I think not."
Vader watched skeptically as two dozen fighters streamed out into space from underneath their viewport. They separated into two separate attack formations, dual arrows poised to strike at the lone enemy.
"This is madness," Vader mumbled.
He felt the sensation again; a ripple in the Force, a surge of something unknown. Vader was caught off guard by its strength. He gasped, although the whine of his respirator was enough to hide that reaction. And just as he felt it, the attacking fighter veered portside to face Alpha Squadron head on.
"Well that's new," Roth said, sounding rather blasé.
Vader shot him a look, but before he could ask, the viewport lit up with emerald flashes as the TIEs opened fire. Returning his attention to the battle, he saw the lone fighter swerve and spin, somehow managing to avoid each and every bolt.
"Impressive," Vader said.
He spoke too soon. Impressive did not describe this pilot's abilities. Otherworldly seemed more apt. With impeccable deftness, they maneuvered their modified fighter through the thicket of enemy TIEs. Without firing a single salvo, the pilot managed to take out their enemies by way of friendly fire, elicited by twisting and turning out of the way of incoming lasers amidst the throng of hostile fighters. Alpha Squadron cannibalized itself, much to the chagrin of their instructor.
"Trigger happy," Roth muttered.
"On the contrary, Colonel," Vader said, "they seem quite disciplined."
"You think?" Roth asked.
"Very much so. Unfortunately, their foe is vastly superior."
Pride bloomed on Roth's rosy face. "Yes, I believe you're right."
With Alpha Squadron eviscerated, the supporting Beta Squadron entered the fray. Vader watched closely as the single-fighter wrecking ball shifted to face the new threat. The pilot seemed to do away with their evasive technique and began blasting with their laser cannons. They went into a tight spiral and zipped headlong at Beta Squadron. Vader couldn't help but smirk.
"Cocky."
He could feel the pilot's confidence. Their presence in the Force was strong. Extremely strong. Closing his eyes, Vader could see their next move.
"Mistake," he said.
He opened his eyes just in time to see his prescience confirmed. Blinded by success, the pilot ruthlessly pursued an offshoot of fighters heading back to the hangars. They were baiting their foe, drawing the prodigious pilot closer to the Star Destroyer.
"Enemy in range, sir!"
"Open fire with ion cannons," Roth commanded.
"Belay that," Vader said.
"My lord?"
"Fire all available batteries." Roth's eyes widened at this command. "Do you question me, Colonel?" Vader asked.
"But my lord…"
"Yes?"
Roth shook his head. "Nothing, sir."
Vader understood the colonel's objection. Firing indiscriminately at the dogfight would likely result in friendly fire. But that was the cost of war. In a real battle, the threat must be eliminated at all costs. This was the sacrifice a commander must make.
"Firing at will!"
Turbolasers and ion cannons alike ripped from the simulated Star Destroyer, a relentless barrage of green and blue which irradiated the dark canvas of space. Realizing their mistake, the lone fighter tried to pull back, but by then it was too late. The remnants of Alpha and Beta Squadron closed in, sustaining losses as they did under the hellfire of Star Destroyer armaments. But it didn't matter. With their enemy trapped, the pilots had no trouble picking off their foe. The battle was won.
"Exercise over," Roth said over the com. "All pilots back to base."
The deactivated fighters, in the time being drifting aimlessly in space, burst back to life and returned to the hangars. Vader kept his eye on the modified fighter as it joined formation.
"Tell me about that pilot," he demanded of Roth.
"Would you like her file?"
"Female?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Unusual."
It was not unheard of to find women in the Fighter Corps, but it, along with most other branches of the Imperial Navy, was predominantly composed of men.
Vader held out his hand and Roth handed him a datapad.
The file before him was sparse; hardly any information was provided: no place of birth, no listed relatives, nothing to indicate she had a life beyond this academy. The pilot's name, APPENZA, L., was printed in capital letters above the mugshot of a girl with a shaved head. She was unsmiling and dour, a not-so-subtle look of contempt in her eyes.
"I would very much like to meet her," Vader said.
"I thought you might," Roth said. "Right this way, my lord."
They walked down the bridge and left the room through the blast doors whence they'd come. Roth led the way to a turbolift which took them down to the hangars. They arrived to find a jubilant scene. The pilots had all disembarked from their fighters and were swarming their triumphant peer.
"She is quite the star," Vader said, content for the time being to observe from afar.
"I've never encountered a pilot with her natural skill," Roth said, his voice rich with pride. "She can be reckless, as you saw, but I attribute that to age. I have no doubt she will become one of the finest recruits in the Fighter Corps. Should you choose to serve as her patron, I promise you she will not let you down."
"Perhaps," Vader said.
He could tell Roth was disappointed. But Vader knew this young woman was not destined for the cockpit. Her fate, as with all children of the Force, belonged with the Emperor. But perhaps he should be cautious. This girl was powerful. Were the Emperor to learn about her, would he not consider grooming her as his new apprentice? But then again, it was entirely possible that Palpatine already did know about her, and this little mission was but a test to see how Vader would react. That sounded like something his master would do.
"This adulation is unwarranted," Vader said. "The girl did not win the battle."
"But her performance was admirable, was it not?" Roth asked.
"Irrelevant." Vader raised a finger to the colonel. "I care about results, Colonel. As should you."
Roth nodded. "Of course. You are right, my lord."
"Dismiss them," Vader ordered. "I wish to speak with the girl."
"Yes, my lord."
Roth made his way to an elevated podium along the back wall of the hangar. He keyed a button on the control pad and spoke into a microphone.
"Attention!"
In a flash, the students stopped celebrating and spun on their heels to salute. They first looked at Roth and then, seeing Vader's terrifying figure, collectively blanched with fear. Vader watched for the girl's reaction. The luster was gone from her face. She was frozen, eyes wide, mouth ajar. How disappointing. He would have thought she of all people would have some mettle.
"At ease," Roth said, stepping away from the podium. "The exercise is now over. You may report to the mess."
The crowd dispersed, but the girl stayed where she was. She clearly knew why Vader was here.
"Cadet Appenza, come here if you would," Roth said, gesturing to the girl. He parked himself by Vader's side and beamed at his star pupil. "Lord Vader was impressed by your performance."
"I can speak for myself, Colonel," Vader growled.
"Forgive me, my lord."
"You may leave us."
"My lord?"
Vader cast him a dismissive look. "You heard me, Colonel. Leave us."
Roth didn't dare disobey. "Yes, my lord." He spared the girl a glance before scampering away. Vader waited for his footsteps to die down before speaking.
"The Force is with you."
The girl frowned. "What?"
"You do not know?"
"Know what?"
Vader smiled tightly. "I am not surprised. Even so, your power is impressive."
The girl said nothing and Vader took the opportunity to look her over more thoroughly. Her hair had grown in a bit since her mugshot had been taken. It was jet black, dyed perhaps, and fastened into a tight bun. She was quite short, especially compared to Vader who towered over her. Her skin was pale, practically pallid. It was not an uncommon complexion among space faring people, but that considered, Vader still found her appearance startling. She was deathly thin, a fact that wasn't belied in the slightest by her bulky flight suit. Her cheekbones jutted out at sharp angles and her eyes were circled by dark rings.
"Are you treated well at the academy?" Vader asked.
The girl hesitated. "Why do you ask, sir?"
"You do not look well."
He spoke bluntly, as Darth Vader always did, but nevertheless he was surprised to hear himself say such a thing. Why should he care how she was treated? Roth clearly extracted results from her. That was what mattered. The Empire valued results above all else.
"I am happy here, sir."
Happy? He hadn't asked if she was happy. He didn't care about such things. But even so, Vader could sense it was true. The glowering girl he had seen on the datapad was no more. Anemic or not, the young woman before him was invigorated, whether it be because of her exploits in the cockpit or the adulation of her peers. In all likelihood a bit of both.
"Colonel Roth wishes for me to become your patron. What do you think of that?"
Again, the girl hesitated. Unable to meet Vader's gaze, her eyes darted beyond him at nothing in particular. She licked her lips and tapped her foot.
"I, uh… I would be honored, sir."
"You do not sound like you are honored."
"I am." The girl straightened her back, yet still could not meet his gaze. She instead stared at his breastplate. "I am honored, sir."
Vader considered her. She was nervous, yes, but he detected something more substantial than fear. Or rather, fear of him. She was anxious for some other reason, and Vader himself was not necessarily responsible.
"Appenza," he said, and with a flourish of his cape, began to circle the girl. "A Core World name."
That seemed to elicit a strong reaction which the girl struggled to tamp down. "Is it, sir?" she asked.
"My lord," Vader corrected.
"Pardon?"
"You will refer to me as such."
Having completed his rotation, Vader came to a stop in front of her. He could now see that the girl was sweating, her ghostly face shining like the bright moons of Coruscant.
"Say it," Vader demanded.
"Yes, my lord."
"Good."
Vader began a second lap.
"You are a mystery, Cadet Appenza. Your file reveals little. Tell me, where is your home world?"
"I don't know, my lord," the girl said all too quickly.
"You don't?"
"I was abducted by pirates when I was very young."
It was a lie, Vader could sense it. But she lied with confidence. Anyone else would have been deceived.
"How did you come to join the Imperial Academy?"
"By luck, my lord. I was working on a spice freighter, and during a layover on Corellia I saw an advertisement for the Fighter Corps. I decided to apply and was fortunate enough to be accepted."
Another lie, this one less convincing than the last. Did she really expect him to believe she was accepted into the academy without any credentials or schooling? It was obvious that she came from the Core, and that she was upper class. Her accent and diction betrayed that beyond a shadow of a doubt. She certainly hadn't been a grunt working on a spice freighter. So why was she lying?
Vader knew he could get the answers out of her, but he found that he didn't want to hurt her. She looked so fragile, he was afraid she might break. But then again, that's what he did. Darth Vader broke people, he maimed and ruined them. That was his job and duty.
"Tell me, Cadet," Vader said, pausing when he completed his second rotation, "what is your first name?"
For once, the girl met his gaze.
"Leia," she said.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading the first chapter! I'd like to give credit to Adam Hughes for his amazing drawing of Pilot Leia which in part inspired this story. I'd also like to give a shoutout to Mahina, whose wonderful story Free to Fly also served as inspiration. Next chapter will be from Leia's perspective and it will give you the necessary background to understand how she got here.