Time passed quickly after that.
The Executor arrived on Coruscant amid pomp and ceremony the twins narrowly managed to avoid, hiding out in their respective quarters until the swarm of reporters and fanatics had died down sufficiently for them to make their run to the surface.
The moment they arrived back in the apartment, they were greeted with two stacks of datapads each. One containing details of the Eclipse investigation. The other was significantly taller, and contained all the tasks their tutors had set them to catch up on what they'd missed the last few months.
"Homework," Luke grumbled uncharitably. It wasn't inaccurate.
Personally, Leia thought that between them, hunting down 'terrorist' leaders, being assigned to work as an archivist and subsequently getting punched by a Rebel, travelling undercover to a pilots' academy, then helping plan and run one of the most major, ambitious Empire Day celebrations yet had been plenty of excuse not to revise how to measure parsecs without a computer. Her tutors—and Palpatine—didn't seem to share the view.
Unfortunately, there wasn't really much they could do about the Eclipse investigation—for the Empire or the Rebels. All they had to go on was that one word, the little information Palpatine's torturers and Luke's analysis had managed to extract from Visz. They didn't even have any idea if the information on the datapad he'd been caught with was the actual information he was after, or just a cover up.
Luke had looked into interrogating him again, to see if his imprisonment had made him anymore likely to cooperate, but they both knew the odds of that. They'd seen all too many times how many of their father's targets died or went mad before they gave up anything of value, even with the Force.
It seemed to be the case here: upon Luke's inquiries, they'd been informed that Lacert Visz had died under interrogation, and was no longer available for discussion.
There wasn't really anything they could do beyond task the Empire's multitude of intelligence agencies to report back anything—anything—found in Rebel transmissions that pertained to an "Eclipse." Which meant they had a lot more for study.
The routine she settled back into was so. . . normal for her that it was almost easy to believe nothing had changed. But they had.
During military tactics lessons, Leia had to refrain from asking how many of these famous manoeuvres had been thought up by a Jedi.
During history lessons, Leia had to refrain from poking holes in all of Imperial history's inconsistencies.
But politics was undoubtedly the worst. Having to learn about the corrupt policies of the cause she'd thrown her lot it with, and the virtues of the government she'd grown to despise, at Palpatine's knee, disgusted her day in, day out. And she had to hide that disgust every time she smiled at him, every time she asked for her opinion and she lied, silver-tongued and sharp, her heart hammering and sweat painting the back of her neck with iridescence.
And then she would go home, and she would receive reports from her father about fleet movements, Palpatine's orders, whatever the memo had been about one senator or another that day. She would sit in the living room with her father and brother as they discussed plans for their coup. The firepower of the Executor and the rest of Death Squadron when pitted against the Star Destroyers whose captains were loyal to Palpatine alone. The possible times to strike, when Palpatine would have his guard the lowest and there would be the lowest risk for them all. The individuals they had singled out and were approaching, trying to build a network of supporters throughout the navy and court.
"We cannot recruit any Inquisitors," her father had said firmly at the very beginning of the latter topic, with a pointed look at Luke. He'd looked almost crestfallen.
Leia wondered why. The conversation she'd had with the Sixth Sister, while he was at Skystrike, came to mind.
She almost opened her mouth to ask there and then, but the nervous look on his face when she did. . .
If she pushed him on this, he might push her on. . . other things. And that could only end badly. She was sure of it.
So, hating herself for all the secrets she was allowing to fester between them. . . she kept her mouth shut.
And then, after all of that, she would go to her room and write her report to Sabé.
All of this. . . It made her restless. It made her feel like she was waiting for something to happen.
And then, just when she became used to the waiting, something did.
It was about six weeks after their return to Coruscant that Luke received the first clue to what Eclipse actually was. It came in the form of Ahsoka actually comming him directly, instead of just accepted the short, scrambled reports he'd grown used to sending out.
"This is a specific request," she said, her voice thick through the encryption. The Fulcrum symbol hovered blue above the comlink; it had been several weeks before Luke realised it was the same symbol as the markings on her forehead. "We need the blueprints to the central power grid on Coruscant."
Luke frowned. "You mean, the plans Visz tried to steal a few months ago?"
"You remember him?"
"He punched me in the face. Of course I remember him." Not that one didn't get punched a lot in Luke's line of work, but he took specific offence to people duping him and then punching him. "He was in interrogation for weeks."
Despite the encryption, he could hear the caution—and the wince—in her tone. "Interrogation? Did he—"
"No," he assured her. "Only one word—'Eclipse'—and none of us have any idea what it means. Leia and I have been tasked with finding that out," he said wryly, "but strangely enough, we don't seem to have met much success."
He heard her release a breath. "Good. That— that's good. Is Visz still alive? He's a good agent, if you could by any chance get him out. . ."
A good agent. Smart enough to get the jump on Luke, at least.
"I'm afraid not," he said, surprised at the genuine regret that closed his throat. "He. . . died in interrogation while I was at Kuat."
"I see."
"So, you want me to get hold of the plans he was trying to steal?" Luke clarified. He didn't even realise he'd fished for knowledge until after he said it; he couldn't hear the amusement in Ahsoka's voice when she spoke, but he imagined it was there.
"Yes." So he had been trying to steal them. "As soon as possible."
Conveniently, Luke's datapad with all the details about the Eclipse investigation was right on hand, and the blueprints were downloaded onto that for posterity. It was ease itself to encrypt the document, then send it on to Ahsoka.
The first blip in Leia's new role was two months after their return. Unbeknownst to her, it came in the same form as it had her brother: a live comm, instead of coded messages.
"We have a task for you," was Sabé's opening line, and as uncomfortable as Leia still was with the idea of rebelling, she leaned forward eagerly. She was tired of this passive resistance, while she still supported the Empire everywhere except inside her heart; she wanted to do something physical, with a physical impact she could see.
"What is it?"
"Some Rebel spies on Coruscant need an escape route; we have word that the ISB are onto them. They've completed the mission they were sent in to do, but if they get caught and it's revealed in interrogation, it will all be for nothing." She paused. There was something painfully human in her voice as she said, "And I don't want to lose anymore allies to the Empire."
Leia thought briefly of her aunt and uncle, dead nearly eleven years. Killed by the Empire—by her father.
If there had ever been a question about whether or not she would do it, it was answered now. "How can I help?"
"We don't think the ISB are sure who they are, or that they're preparing to leave, but they will once word comes through that servants in the Imperial Palace were seen trying to barter passage off-world. We can't risk them being caught like that."
"So you want me to fly them off-world?"
"No; that could risk compromising your cover, and you're one of the best agents we have." Leia felt oddly touched, for all that she knew it was a cold, hard fact. No one else of her rank had defected.
In her distraction she missed the 'one of' part.
"There are several skilled pilot among them; they just need a ship. I was hoping you could provide them with one."
"We have several, but my father will notice if one goes missing; I don't have any of my—" She froze. Yes she did. "I've got it. Tell your spies to get to these coordinates on the planet, and open landing bay 1569 with the code two-Aurek-Esk-three-seven-Thesh."
"Bay 1569. Code two-Aurek-Esk-three-seven-Thesh."
"Exactly. There's a ship there that they can use. Make sure they remove the Imperial insignia from the transponder, but otherwise that ship is fast for her size, has incredible shields, and is completely nondescript."
". . .is it the ship you flew to Naboo."
Leia wrinkled her nose at how easily she'd guessed that. "Yes. My family assume I sold it when I returned."
"Very well. Bay 1569. Code two-Aurek-Esk-three-seven-Thesh. Ex-smuggler's ship, ex-Imperial ship; make sure to remove the Imperial transponder." A pause, as Leia assumed she wrote all that down. "Thank you."
"It's. . . my pleasure. And, tell them—" She swallowed. "May the Force be with them."
When Luke heard that the Hidden Star had been stolen right from the bay Leia had docked it in, he had a few questions.
The first was: "Didn't you say you'd sold that thing?"
"I told you I was going to sell it. It was a perfectly good ship! I wasn't gonna sell it for anything less than it's worth, and I haven't found a serious buyer yet."
Luke was at least seventy percent sure that was a lie, but that large margin for error just showed how much he and Leia had drifted apart recently. He hated it, and the pang in his chest distracted him for a moment.
Then he shook his head, "Anyway, get in your fighter. We need to go after it." Not that he had any intention of catching the fleeing Rebel spies—being complicit in the interrogation and torture of such vital agents might not go down well with the Rebellion—but if they didn't at least try to catch them. . .
"Why do we have to? Isn't that what the fleet constantly hanging over Coruscant is for?"
"Sure. But you know the average competency of some Imperial forces, and that was your ship they escaped in. Do you really want to be the one to explain to Palpatine why that was?"
Leia grimaced—for an instant, she looked genuinely afraid. "He would kill me."
"I'll cry at your funeral."
"That's so gratifying." She rolled her eyes. "Come on, idiot, get in the TIEs."
"Do you think Father would mind if—"
"Yes. Yes he would."
So they shot out of the atmosphere above Coruscant in standard TIEs, tweaked by their father slightly—he'd never let them fly in something that didn't have some sort of shields—but without the speed and weapons capabilities of a TIE Advanced or Interceptor or Defender.
Luke made a mental note to get hold of one of them.
But it didn't matter. They had each other.
"There," Leia's voice came over the comms, "the Hidden Star, straight ahead. They're powering up to jump."
"Intel suspects the spies aren't taking any important information to the Rebels, they're just trying to escape. We need them alive to find out what they've leaked already. Are there any Interdictors nearby?"
"Not above Coruscant."
"So we have to stop them from jumping, without harming any of the crew, and hope a Star Destroyer gets a tractor beam locked on them in time?" He could hear the scepticism in his own voice, for all that it hid the genuine relief he was feeling. If it was a difficult task on their parts already, Palpatine wouldn't punish them for being unusually incompetent and letting them escape.
Theoretically.
Only one way to find out.
Without any verbal warning—Leia needed none—Luke shot forward. She followed suit, raking her first barrage over the Star, watching pockets of fire bloom along their shields.
No damage was taken.
Leia had just the right amount of focus to recognise that Luke was hailing the other Star Destroyers in the area, but she also knew that by the time they got here, it would be too late. Conveniently, it was up to her.
The Star swung round rapidly when she fired again, those weapons Leia had taken such pride in being brought to bear against her in a storm that had her darting away like a firefly to escape, her shields sizzling with the impact. She sensed more than heard Luke's clipped negotiations with the Destroyers' captains—politics as usual, then—come to an end, then he joined her flank.
Together, they engaged.
The Hidden Star escaped anyway.
Palpatine had been unimpressed.
Beyond unimpressed. Not only had several spies been operating in his palace, right under the noses of his greatest military minds, but they had also out-flown two of his greatest agents.
He did not hesitate to make that displeasure known.
It had been a short electrocution, compared to the first one Luke had borne, but he was still furious that Leia had been punished at all. Naturally, he was angry that Palpatine had electrocuted him, but Leia had done nothing wrong. She'd fired on that ship with every ounce of skill she had. She was not the reason it had failed; she was not the traitor.
Luke was.
The thought sobered him. His actions had caused his sister just as much pain as they'd caused him, today, and she had had no say in it. It racked him with guilt.
Leia could sense it, he knew. She kept giving him odd looks, sending warm, concerned inquiries along their bond. What's wrong?
What could he say?
I betrayed you, Father and everything you stand for because of a rotting old corpse we're planning on deposing anyway and a woman who abandoned us when we were children? That wouldn't go down well, he sensed. And. . .
He couldn't bear to see the rejection in her eyes.
When they returned to the apartment after dropping in at a medbay, he'd headed straight for his bedroom, mumbling some excuse about having studying to catch up on. It wasn't a lie, he did have work for military tactics, but he found he couldn't focus. He ended up staring at the holo image of a walker for who knew how long, not really thinking of anything at all.
"Luke?"
He started, the datapad sliding off his lap. Leia caught it with the Force and floated it back up to him. He accepted it wordlessly.
She sat down on the bed beside him. "Something's bothering you."
He didn't answer, still staring at the datapad. The holo of the walker, caught with one of its long, spindly legs raised; mid-step. "You know, they really need to change the AT-ATs' designs. Rebel speeders come equipped with tow cables. A savvy pilot and his gunner would be able to wrap it up and trip it over with ease. I'm surprised they haven't done so already."
"Not everyone's as smart as you, Luke," Leia said. "But I am, and I know when you're avoiding my question."
He let out a sigh.
He couldn't tell her.
He had to tell her.
He couldn't tell her—
"I—" He swallowed. "I. . . never told you what happened at Skystrike."
She folded her hands in her lap, fixing him with a patient look. He swallowed again.
He couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her.
He had to tell her.
Faint tremors still wracked his body from Palpatine's. . . displeasure; she tried to hide them, but he could see them in Leia as well.
It wasn't just him paying the price for his treason anymore. It was his sister.
And that was something he could not accept.
Whether or not she hated him. Whether or not she turned him in, and everything he'd given the Rebellion would be for naught.
He had to tell her.
"I. . . You know that they got away. The defectors got away." It was a statement, not a question, but she nodded in response anyway. "I. . . didn't fail to stop them."
She delicately arched one eyebrow. "It wasn't your fault? Was it Pryce?"
"No." He swallowed again. His throat felt like the Dune Sea at high noon. "I was in the corridor with them. I'd sealed the doors shut. And then. . . I let them go."
The words dropped like a stone. The silence was deafening.
Leia took a deep breath. "Well," she commented. Her tone was sharp, knife-like, but that knife was not turned on him. Not just yet. "You went from shouting at me about treason to committing it yourself real fast."
He flinched at that word. "It wasn't treason!" he defended. Her glance was sceptical. "At least. . . not yet."
"Yet?"
He flinched. He hadn't meant to say that.
But. . . in for a credit, in for the pot, he supposed. He had to tell her.
"Ahsoka Tano made contact with me after the event, and was trying to convince me to. . . turn traitor"—he had to prise the word out of his gums—"but I didn't buy it! Not until. . ."
He trailed off.
His mind was still locked down tight, but Leia managed to guess, with a certainty that unnerved him, "Until the Death Star."
He jerked his head up. "How did you—"
"Because, Luke," she reached for his hand and squeezed it in hers, a smile of joy and familiarity and relief breaking the strain on her face, "that was when I defected as well."
That was when I defected as well
Defection.
It was the first time he'd heard it aloud in regards to. . . all of this.
He shook his head, "You—" He didn't have any words for it. But. . .
Something ballooned in his chest.
He'd told her. He'd told her. And she wasn't looking at him in disgust or heartbreak; she was looking at him with happiness, the same relief he now felt. She— His sister—
He lunged forward, throwing his arms around her neck and burying his face in her shoulder. She laughed wetly; a moment later, her arms came round him and her head was to his chest. They were both crying.
"This isn't what I expected when I finally told you," she whispered against his shirt. It broke his heart.
He said, "Likewise," and felt her smile almost giddily.
He drew back after a moment, and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. Even as he met her eye, smiling, another one spilled out.
"What was it like for you?" What changed your mind? What made you go that far?
She made to open her mouth—then paused. Leaned forward instead until they were forehead to forehead, the heat from her mind seeping into his.
"Like this," she breathed.
She brought down those painstakingly constructed shields, one by one, and showed him. A moment later, he showed her in return.
Imperial censorship was tough, even in the highest echelons. Luke and Leia could hardly have known while they discussed treason, democracy and the downfall of a tyrant, it was in the ex-apartment of Padmé Amidala.
It was in the apartment where the Delegation of 2,000—and thus, the Rebellion—had been born.
They talked about it for hours afterwards. Hours and hours and hours, comparing the points that had changed everything for them, the ways they'd been persuaded, the information they'd passed on.
"At least not all of it was identical," Leia had laughed when she heard Luke's summaries, "otherwise they might have been thinking they only needed one of us."
"Or that it was a twin-bond thing."
"Also true."
"But I would never," Luke affected, hand to his chest. "Who in the galaxy cares one whit about the gossip of the Imperial Court?"
She shoved at his chest, well aware that he was joking but rising to the bait anyway. "Hey! It's good for blackmail, infiltration and just knowing your enemies!"
"Perhaps." He sniffed haughtily, making her laugh harder. "But still. . . gossip. . ."
After the first half hour, they figured they should alert their respective contacts that they had each found out about the other—security purposes, and all—and scrambled to send short, encoded messages that probably did nothing to convey the sheer joy they both felt at the news. Leia could feel Luke's even more strongly than her own, their Force bond alight and free of awkwardness and secrets in a way it hadn't been for months.
She finally felt like she could breathe again.
The euphoria buoyed her long into the evening, a grin forming on her face when she so much as shared a glance with her brother. She felt so happy.
Naturally, it all came crashing down only a few hours later.
And naturally, it was her father—inadvertently or not—who destroyed it.
They were at dinner, and Leia was chomping on her steak with an enthusiasm she had lacked, recently. Vader—who didn't eat, but sat with them for the purposes of being a healthy, sociable father—commented, "You seem happier."
She nodded idly, sharing another glance with Luke.
Vader glanced between them, perplexed. "I had thought," he said, a little more delicately, "that after the Rebels' escape, and your talk with the Emperor. . ."
Leia's fork stilled. Luke flinched. They didn't want to think about that.
Vader noticed, and she felt an intense surge of protectiveness from him. It would have made her smile again, did she not have one horrible thought in her mind: it wouldn't last.
The moment he learnt that both of his children had betrayed him, it would shatter his heart.
He'd already said that their mother had betrayed him. . .
He read her mood change, and misinterpreted it. "He will not touch you again," he declared fiercely. "I promise you that, young ones."
But Luke had put down his fork, shaking his head. "You can't promise that, Father. Not until after the coup. You can't. . ." He worked the words in his mouth. ". . .raise his suspicions like that."
". . .perhaps not," Vader conceded, though the words seemed to have been ripped from his vocoder. "But he is not inclined to punish you again for this incident. He already believes there are more spies in the Palace, highly placed, who allowed them to escape."
Leia choked on her food. She exchanged an alarmed glance with Luke.
Vader paused, tilting his helmet at the two of them. Kriff.
Well, he'd misread their unease before. Leia could cover up their slip by prodding him to do the same now.
"More Rebels?" she got out, faux horror coating her voice. She kicked Luke's under the table; he assumed a similarly horrified and disgusted expression.
Their father sat back, mollified. "Indeed. Someone had to have leaked the codes to get onto your ship, after all. The ISB have apparently been less than thorough in rooting them out."
"Big surprise there," Luke muttered. Leia was surprised at how calm he could act under the circumstances, but she supposed the distaste for the ISB for real. Especially after what he'd shown her had happened at Skystrike.
"Perhaps not." Vader's mask tilted back down, towards their meals, and Leia picked up her utensils again. "But rest assured, those responsible will be caught and punished."
Leia clenched her fist around her fork, and stubbornly avoided Luke's gaze.
"It is only a matter of time."