Chapter Six

In the waiting area off of the Monarch's stateroom in the Royal Palace, Lord Vader stood still as a statue as he faced a painted portrait of Alderaan's princess, Leia Organa.

No.

She was a Naberrie-Skywalker. She was his daughter.

Yet, he had missed her for years. Why hadn't he noticed her when Tarkin had been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue and acidic comments during those senatorial celebrations he'd been forced to attend?

Unintentional Force-masking or not, he still should've recognised his own daughter.

His face crumpled behind his mask as he fought off tears. He knew that if his daughter had shared his and Padmé's names, she would've been hunted down and likely killed before reaching her first birthday.

The Organas had protected her. They had kept her safe from the monsters of the galaxy. From Palpatine.

From him.

The Sith Lord attempted to let go of his self-hatred and grief, knowing that he couldn't afford to fail now. He couldn't afford to get sloppy.

He focused on the rhythmic hiss and release of his respirator as it forced air into his damaged lungs. He focused on the constraining tightness of his life-support suit—something that he'd once despised, but now could occasionally find solace in.

Vader was distracted from his thoughts at the creaking sound of the massive wooden doors leading into the stateroom being heaved open.

There was a sharp spike of fear in the Force, followed by hushed murmuring between members of Queen Organa's guard detail.

Still, he remained fixated on the portrait. He couldn't bear to look away.

The sensors in his helmet and implants in his ears allowed him to hear the rustle of fabric, the sound of light steps upon the stone floor, as someone made their way closer.

Vader felt, more than saw, Queen Organa step beside him on his right. Still he remained fixated on the painted portrait.

There was the soft clearing of a throat, and then the Queen quietly began to speak. "This portrait was commissioned shortly after Leia completed her three challenges for her Day of Demand, claiming the right to the throne." She paused. "On Alderaan, these challenges are completed on the sixteenth anniversary of the name day."

Vader swallowed. "Name day?"

Queen Organa hummed thoughtfully. "It is a tradition within the monarchy. A 'name day' is the day in which the heir apparent is formally introduced to the public." She paused. "In the case of adoptions, like Leia, the name day usually takes place a few days after birth."

He didn't know how to respond to the information shared with him. So he continued to focus his attention on the portrait.

Even with the red hue of his eye lenses, Vader could easily make out the determination on Leia's face. He sensed a phantom kick against his cybernetic left hand—a memory, long forgotten—reminding him of what he had felt before Leia had taken her first breath. "She is strong," he intoned quietly.

He could feel the Queen's pride humming in the Force at his statement.

"That she is," Queen Organa confirmed. She chuckled softly. "Stubborn too."

At that comment, Vader finally turned to face the Queen, ready to defend the daughter he didn't truly know. He halted before he could even begin to argue, realising at once that Organa hadn't meant it in a negative way.

She was proud of Leia's stubbornness in the same way that she was proud of her strength.

The Queen tilted her head slightly to the side. A look of curious intrigue passed across her face, before being hidden behind her stoic mask of indifference. "Take a walk with me, Lord Vader. There is a place within my home that I'd like to share with you."

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Vader gestured for the Queen to lead the way.

...


...

"Forgive me for being so bold, Lord Vader, but the people of Alderaan have, what I feel to be, well-placed concerns regarding the presence of the Imperial Navy above our world," Queen Organa stated, leading the way down the sprawling steps that led into the central courtyard of the Royal Palace.

The Sith Lord took note of the Queen's guard detail, taking up positions around the perimeter as to not overhear their conversation. Still, he was cautious with his words and had to assume that there were eyes and ears everywhere. "Rest assured, Your Majesty, that the presence of my personal Destroyer above your home is merely there to quell any potential threats."

"Oh?"

Vader clasped his hands behind his back as they strolled along a pebbled pathway. "Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was determined to have been hiding on the Hutt-controlled planet of Tatooine until a few weeks prior. Right under the nose of the highly-capable Captain Tamet Kosh, and his Legion of skillful stormtroopers." He couldn't prevent his sarcasm from leaching through the vocoder, and knew that the Queen heard it loud and clear. "It appears that Kenobi, and his Padawan, fled the world before they were able to be apprehended."

"Ah. You believe that Kenobi and this Padawan will come here. Hence the search of the palace."

"He does have a history on this planet," Vader argued.

The Queen hummed non-committally. "I assume that you're speaking of those handful of incidents during the Clone Wars? If I recall correctly, it was the Jedi Order as a whole that came to my husband's aid a fair number of times. I don't believe it was only Master Kenobi, Lord Vader."

She was correct. He himself had come to the man's aid more than once. Regardless, he needed an excuse to visit Alderaan and was certain that Queen Organa understood that.

"Be as it may, Your Majesty, but few Jedi have avoided capture for as long as he has." Vader stopped in front of a statue of some Alderaanian philosopher that he'd never heard of, and turned to face the Queen. "Kenobi is an exceptionally dangerous criminal. For all of Alderaan."

The expression on the Queen's face remained impassive, but she offered him a subtle lift of her chin. "I appreciate the timely warning, Lord Vader. Truly."

Vader returned her poise with a subtle dip of his head. It was apparent to him that she had been informed, not only of the existence of his time-travelling Padawan, but also of the threat of the Death Star. Obi-Wan had obviously made contact with the Royal Family of Alderaan, and had taken Leia under his protection. Just as Vader had asked of him.

"Forgive my intrusive questions, but I must ask: Do you remember when you last saw Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

His question brought a smile to Queen Organa's face that she didn't bother to hide. "Lord Vader… it has been ages since I last saw Master Kenobi." She paused. "I'm afraid my memory isn't quite as good as it used to be, so I'm unable to give you a more precise time of when I saw him last."

Her choice of words caused Vader to smirk behind his mask. To most, her answer sounded exceptionally specific. But, he knew from his time with Padmé, that the Queen of Alderaan had been purposely vague; he couldn't even tell in the Force that she was lying. 'Ages' meant nothing, while 'precise time' only told Vader that she hadn't looked at a chrono when Obi-Wan had arrived on the planet to fill them in.

Vader gestured vaguely to the surrounding palace. "Your husband, Viceroy Organa, once had a close relationship with the Jedi Order before they betrayed the Republic. Perhaps he can answer my queries. I can only imagine how busy you must be as Queen of Alderaan, and I would hate to take up any more of your time." It was a suggestion that he knew she wouldn't take. Bail Organa had left with the others. He would've known the precise location of where the Rebels were hiding.

"I'm afraid speaking with him won't be possible any time soon, Lord Vader." The Queen frowned. "Bail has decided to move up his annual diplomatic tour of the galaxy that provides aid to those worlds less privileged than ours. This year he's insisted on bringing our daughter along to better understand the work done. Neither will be returning to Alderaan for at least a few months."

Vader tilted his head to the side as he pondered over her words. "And they have left you behind?"

Queen Organa gave him a hearty laugh. "Like you've said, I am quite busy as the leader of my people, Lord Vader."

Vader conceded her point in near silence, only his respirator sounded for a few long seconds. "Perhaps you can join them near the end of their tour."

The Queen flashed her teeth in a tense smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Perhaps." She blinked. "Or perhaps I won't need to."

A strong wave of fear pulsed against Vader's shields. Queen Organa was understandably terrified of what the completion of the Death Star would bring.

"In the absence of the Viceroy and… your daughter—" It felt strange to refer to Leia as his own, but even more peculiar to refer to her as someone else's child. Vader had to work to tuck away his anger. The circumstances of how and where his children were raised was his own making. "In the absence of the Viceroy and… the Princess," he corrected, if only for himself, "The Devastator will remain above Alderaan to provide protection, should Kenobi risk coming here."

He felt a soft wave of dread in the Force. The Queen didn't want him here.

Vader tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at Organa. "Of course, given my responsibilities as Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Military, I will likely be called away before my troops can get too comfortable." He paused, allowing his respirator to cycle. "However, when the Devastator does leave, I will have no control over which Destroyer will take its place."

"Even if Imperial starships are supposed to be under your command?" The Queen was quiet as she began walking once again. This time making her way closer to the central fountain.

Vader hesitated, unsure as to why he felt the need to warn Organa. "I may be the Commander of the Imperial Military, Your Majesty. But, I am not the ruler of the Empire."

"I don't understand, Lord Vader. Why wouldn't the Emperor trust his Second-in-Command to do the job assigned?"

"Am I his Second-in-Command?" Vader responded before he could stop himself. "True, I once believed that to be the case. But today? No." He shook his head. "I do not have the mind for politics, nor the patience. Those who do are the true threats to your world."

"Noted."

The Sith Lord listened to the water splashing in the fountain for a few minutes, grateful that Queen Organa allowed him the time to gather his thoughts and answer her question. "If I were the Emperor, I would make certain that I had a contingency plan or two in regards to Luke Skywalker." He paused to allow his respirator to cycle. "Having only his apprentice hunt the boy down is incredibly foolish… and risky. He would know that I would likely attempt to convince Luke to join me in killing him. It is the way of the Sith, after all."

"You're thinking the Emperor has hired a bounty hunter?" Queen Organa quietly questioned.

Vader looped his thumbs in his belt, and wondered just what the Queen knew about bounty hunters. "At least one," he said at last. "And they would have to be skilled enough to capture the target alive. No small feat when it comes to a Force-sensitive boy, untrained or otherwise."

Vader dropped his gaze down to the pebbled path. "I am already aware that the Emperor does not trust me when it comes to Luke." He brought his gaze back up to meet the Queen. "Palpatine ordered the captain of the Devastator, Captain Mulchive Wermis, to send out scout-ships during my visit to Tatooine. I know that they were able to obtain images of vessels leaving Mos Eisley, Mos Espa, and Bestine." He paused. "That information will be invaluable to a skilled bounty hunter."

"That's why Captain Wermis has taken to following your General and the stormtroopers around like an angry wampa. You're attempting to hinder his orders from Palpatine." The Queen narrowed her eyes at him. "Can your General also not be trusted, Lord Vader? Is that why you have him searching with his men, rather than commanding them from the Destroyer?"

The Sith Lord considered the Queen's questions. "General Veers almost always joins his men on the ground, Your Majesty. And, while he is loyal to the Galactic Empire, his son is not. Zevulon Veers is believed to have defected to the Rebel terrorists during a SAGroup mission a short time ago." He crossed his arms across his chest. "Unsurprisingly, the General has officially disowned his son. However…" He is the only family that Maximilian has left. "However, I am aware of his desperate attempts to reach out to the boy."

Queen Organa was silent as she mulled over the information. "Family is important," she said at last. "Family is what drives us to frustration while showing us our strengths." She raised a brow. "At least, that's what I tell myself when my charming nephew decides to voice his displeasure every time my sister and her husband come to visit."

Vader smirked and gave the Queen a subtle tilt of his helmet in response, but otherwise remained silent.

"The reason you mentioned earlier, was that the only reason you've insisted for Captain Wermis to tag along?" Queen Organa asked with narrowed eyes. "Because of the Emperor's orders?"

Vader shook his head slightly. "The girl arrived with only the clothes on her back and is from a desert world. I needed him off of the Devastator in order to make certain that a small team of older troopers are able to come planet-side without drawing the Emperor's attention."

He watched as Organa's lips twitched like she was attempting to prevent herself from grinning, before succumbing and giving him a warm smile. He couldn't fathom the reason for such a response.

"How thoughtful of you… General," she commented.

With a roll of his eyes, he now understood. The Queen was teasing him because of his concern for Rey. "Careful, Your Majesty," Vader warned as seriously as he could muster (which wasn't serious at all). He regarded her for a moment as she chuckled quietly. "Is there… anything that you require?"

The Queen's expression sobered almost instantly. She pursed her lips, seeming to consider the best way to reply. "Ideally, I need you to ensure that your Captain, and the rest of the search party, remain in Aldera." She paused. "If that's not possible, or if it would rouse too much suspicion, keeping everyone away from Sanctuary Coast would be greatly appreciated."

Vader thought back to what he knew of the mentioned city. He remembered during the Clone Wars that Alderaan had been one of the few Core Worlds to welcome refugees. Chianar had been one of the cities that had a massive refugee population, while Sanctuary Coast had been another. He wasn't personally familiar with either place, but knew that only one had a spaceport.

He had a feeling that Sanctuary Coast was that city, and knew deep in his gut what the Queen was attempting to accomplish.

He opened his mouth to reply, hesitating slightly as he took in the guards standing at attention around the perimeter of the courtyard. None of them could hear what they were saying thanks to the splashing of the fountain. "Are you evacuating the planet, Your Majesty?"

The Queen's eyebrows raised high on her forehead as she gave him a look of extreme innocence. "Now why would I do that, Lord Vader?"

They stared at each other like they were two characters locked in a blaster stand-off in The Gunslinger from Gorlan. A ridiculous holo-drama that he'd been forced to watch alongside Captain Rex and a few others from the 501st during the first few months of the Clone Wars.

The Sith Lord was about to break the tense silence, when General Veers was led into the courtyard by one of the Royal Guards.

"Lord Vader, sir," Veers stated in greeting once he came to a halt and stood at attention a few feet away. "Our search of the palace is progressing rather quickly as we have yet to find any evidence suggesting the presence of General Obi-Wan Kenobi." He took a sharp breath in, puffing his chest. "However, a man has just arrived and says his name is Doctor Leig Duwan. He is currently waiting in the entrance hall for Her Majesty."

Vader turned to look at Queen Organa. "Are you ill, Your Majesty?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew that he'd made an embarrassing gaffe. He had no reason to care about the Queen's health. Nor was it any of his business. He dropped his gaze from her face to the pebbled ground.

"Not ill, per se."

Vader could feel the Queen's smile as she spoke, which caused him to lift his head in confusion.

Queen Organa held his gaze for a few long seconds before gesturing to her chest. "Doctor Duwan is a heart and lung specialist. I've been his patient since my Day of Demand, specifically since the Challenge of the Body." She paused, and it was then that Vader could hear the soft sound of artificial breath. "I've got pulmonodes in place of my two lungs as well as my heart."

"I see." Vader didn't know how to react to the information given. He barely understood what pulmonodes were, and had certainly never heard of them during his own research into his injuries.

The Queen seemed to be waiting for something—for Vader to respond in a specific way—but he had no idea where to start. As such, he settled on what he knew best, and gestured to the entrance leading into the courtyard. "Led the way to the doctor, Your Majesty." He had to pause to allow his respirator to cycle. "I will take it upon myself to ensure that this Doctor Duwan is who he says he is."

Queen Organa gave him a curt nod of her head, and allowed her guard detail to lead her out of the courtyard.

Vader made certain to follow the group, with General Veers close on his heels.

...


...

"How much longer do your men need to finish the search of the palace, General?" Vader asked as both he and Veers stood watch outside the Queen's personal quarters.

The general was having a difficult time keeping the grin from his face after the Sith Lord had invited him to stand guard outside the Queen's quarters. A break from Captain Wermis was no doubt the culprit for such a reaction from the usually stoic general.

The heart and lung specialist, Doctor Leig Duwan, was currently performing an annual examination of the pulmonodes within the Queen's chest. After providing Vader with his credentials, Duwan had informed him that the procedure was one recommended for all beings who'd undergone similar life-saving measures.

The fact that the doctor seemed to know that Vader had never received such an examination, after barely the briefest of looks at his life-support suit, had put the Sith Lord on edge. He'd been stewing over his dependence on the suit in silence ever since.

"Maybe another hour, sir." Veers paused. "Perhaps two at most."

"And the captain?" Vader asked. "Is he behaving?"

"As well as can be expected from a conceded Core Worlder like himself." Veers sighed tiredly. "I've assigned Commander Praji and Captain Irvin to keep a close eye on him during the search, sir."

"When you are finished with the palace, expand the search to the rest of Aldera," Vader ordered. "I do not believe Kenobi or Skywalker are planet-side. However, someone might have seen something worthwhile."

The general hummed knowingly. "Aldera is a beautiful and wealthy city. Any suspicious-looking foreigner would've drawn attention from the locals."

Unless the foreigner in question had the ability to manipulate said local's attention with the Force, Vader thought dryly. Obi-Wan would've made sure that any trace of his visit was dealt with accordingly. There would be nothing for the 501st to find.

Obi-Wan had evaded capture for the last two decades for a reason. The Jedi knew how to disappear.

...


...

"What's the story, just in case someone asks?" Hawk muttered as they stepped out of the repulsorcab that had dropped them off a short distance away from The Wylde Expedition.

The shop had been recommended by a silver-skinned Soikan working at the spaceport. She had informed them that the place had everything from clothing and footwear to climbing and sleeping gear in order to spend the night camping up in the mountains.

Fixer smirked as they made their way towards the shop. "I'm feeling desperate to spend some quality time in the mountains with my sweetheart after being granted leave. Problem is, she's never left Ator before. She hasn't even seen a tree in person, let alone hiked up a mountain." He pointed a finger at Hawk as the doors slid open, granting them access. "So we'll need to start from scratch."

"Greetings Beings!" A shopkeeper droid called out to them the moment they stepped through the threshold of the store.

Fixer felt himself tense at the unexpected greeting, and watched as the modified protocol droid shuffled around the credit counter and made its way towards him and Hawk.

It wasn't as though he was afraid of droids exactly. Over the years he'd got a hell of a lot more comfortable being around them while stationed on the Devastator. So much so that he and a few of his brothers had taken to repairing and customising them.

He just didn't like being surprised by droids. And, as far as he could tell, neither did Hawk.

"Welcome to The Wylde Expedition," the droid stated as soon as it deemed itself a close enough distance from the new customers. "I am Shopkeeper Droid See-El-Dee-Eight-Eight—also known as Cylda—filling in for Master Lappen Wylde, who is away on an expedition of his very own!" It paused to look between Fixer and Hawk. "How might I be of service?"

"Good day, Cylda," Fixer forced himself to speak. "If you could point us in the direction of the hiking and mountaineering clothing designed for human women, that would be greatly appreciated."

"All human clothing is located at the rear of the store," Cylda replied. "Human footwear is on the back left, clothing is on the back wall, while outerwear is on the back right."

"Thanks Cylda," Hawk responded with a tight grin on his face. "My brother and I should be able to manage on our own from here."

Cylda jerkily looked between Hawk and Fixer before giving them an exaggerated nod of its head. "Of course, sirs." It gestured over to the counter. "I will be sure to wait at the credit counter. Please do not hesitate to call for my assistance if you require further help."

Fixer began to walk towards the area indicated before the droid had even begun its retreat to the credit counter. They had a tight timeline, the general had said as much to him this morning when he had slipped Fixer a sheet of flimsi before heading onto the command bridge for the Devastator's arrival above Alderaan.

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out the folded up flimsi and skimmed over the hastily written list. "The general says that because the girl has been living off of survival rations for her entire life, she's on the smaller side," he muttered, peering up from the flimsi to look at Hawk who'd blanched at that information. "But they're doing some strength training together in order for her to build up a bit of muscle."

"And we have a few tailoring droids on the Devastator if she needs alterations," Hawk replied understandingly. "Which means we should aim for clothing that's a bit too big, rather than too small."

"Yep." Fixer showed his brother the list. "I think the only difficulty will be finding the right boots."

Hawk hummed thoughtfully as he read through the general's handwritten list. "Have you seen her?"

"Just on holo-camera," Fixer admitted quietly. "When the general left after giving us our assignment, I got curious and went looking through the security feed. She looks about average height for a human woman, maybe a bit taller. But…" he drifted off, uncertain.

"But?"

Fixer peered around the shop, making certain that there truly was no one around to overhear. "She's got a lightsaber."

Hawk remained silent for a few long seconds, just staring at Fixer. "I hope you've deleted the recording, Sergeant."

"Of course I have!" Fixer hissed. "And where is this 'Sergeant' banthashit coming from, Hawk? I'm your brother first, foremost and forever." He sighed heavily. "I even went back and deleted every other recording that I could find of her." He gesticulated wildly at the hiking gear and hunting knives situated in the centre of the store. "Our general has been training the girl how to fight and defend herself almost every nightcycle since she appeared out of nowhere. Literally."

"No one appears out of nowhere," Hawk insisted dryly.

Fixer raised a brow. "She came out of a supplies closet on the general's private floor." He paused, mostly to be a dramatic ass. "A supplies closet that she never entered."

"You're sure?"

He gave his brother a pointed look. "I went back six months on the karking security feed. Yeah… I'm sure."

Hawk squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Osik."

Fixer could only grunt in agreement. They'd need to sit down with the rest of their brothers and tell them about the girl once they returned to the Devastator. Especially if she had a lightsaber.

No secrets. That was one of the few rules that they'd all insisted on after they had got their inhibitor chips removed a few years earlier. Secrets were what got people killed, and there were too few of them left as it was.

"I'll get the outerwear and boots," Hawk said after a moment. "You get the clothing and underthings. We'll meet up near the hiking gear in twenty." He frowned. "Budget?"

"Three thousand," Fixer admitted quietly. "But, we need to get her more than just clothes, remember."

Hawk nodded, waving him off as he strolled towards the jackets.

Fixer sighed tiredly, grabbed a basket, and began to quickly make his way through the clothing section.

As he tossed a few packages of women's thinskin briefs, undershirts and socks into his basket, he saw Hawk out of the corner of his eye, trying on a long, dark jacket with a bantha fur-trimmed hood. "If anything it'll certainly keep her warm," Fixer muttered to himself.

Upon noticing varying grades of thermalskin, he added a roll graded to extreme cold into the basket. He knew from personal experience that there was nothing worse than having frost-bitten legs because of a poorly-equipped kit.

After spending a short time looking at pants, Fixer selected a pair of water-resistant hiking trousers with multiple pockets, and two pairs of leggings—one for sleeping, while the other was for daily wear. He then grabbed a few tunics and shirts, before making his way over to the hiking gear in the centre of the shop.

Hawk was there waiting for him, with the long, dark blue jacket that he'd attempted to try on earlier draped over his left forearm. A pair of lace-up boots, that looked to be about mid-calf in length, were gripped in his right hand.

Fixer raised a brow, nodding towards the boots. "Those ones good, you think?"

"Average-size, water-resistant and they've got a good grip," Hawk replied as he lifted the boots to show Fixer the soles. "I think they'll work. And they're half-price too, because they're 'last season'... whatever that means."

"And the jacket?"

Hawk winced. "It's six-hundred credits, and comes with all the fixings. But, I think it's worth it." He paused to gesture with his chin to the jacket in his arms. "It's got a built-in vest that she can take out and wear separately, as well as an inner lining thing. The vest is made up of a fibre-fabric weave." He shrugged. "It likely won't stop a blaster bolt or anything, but it is graded to stop a good, old-fashioned blade."

Fixer nodded in approval at Hawk's selection. He set his basket down on the floor at his feet and picked up a ridiculously expensive field survival kit to take a closer look.

He snorted at the list of 'survival' items and pointed them out to Hawk. "Why would one person need three breathing masks and sixty canisters? That's almost two months worth of that shit."

"Well, if they decided to build a home on some inhospitable hellscape, it'd probably take them at least a month or so to build it," Hawk replied with a smirk. "If it were me, however, I'd just set up the emergency beacon that's also included, and put my feet up as I waited for the boss to find me." He shrugged. "It'd only be a two or three day wait at most."

Fixer grunted in agreement as he carefully set the kit back down on the shelf. He had no interest in paying well over a thousand credits for something that he and Hawk could build better for only a few hundred.

"Backpack or duffel?" Hawk asked him with a nod to the nearby bags.

"A backpack will allow her to hook a sleeping bag to the outside," Fixer responded.

Setting down the boots, Hawk reached over and grabbed a black backpack. "Gotta keep her from glowing in the dark, you know," he said as he eyed the bright red and orange coloured versions of the same pack with disdain.

"No kidding," Fixer agreed with a snort. He strolled towards the sleeping bags that were on display nearby, and began to read the specs.

"I don't think the girl has a bunk to sleep on in the general's quarters," Fixer muttered to Hawk, who tossed a toothbrush, hairbrush and bar of soap into the basket before dropping the backpack on top. "But, do you think an inflatable sleeping bag is too much?"

Hawk raised a brow at the question. "Are you feeling guilty because she's got a lightsaber and likely very little training?" he quietly asked. "Or, are you feeling guilty because she's lived off of survival rations her whole life—which you and I both know are only supposed to be a temporary fix due to their poor nutrition content." He frowned. "Ess-Ars are nothing more than 'stomach-fillers'."

Fixer swallowed the unease that he felt from his brother's questions. They left him feeling exposed. Weak. "A bit of both, yeah?"

Hawk's lips twitched into a smirk, but his eyes remained sad. "Then splurge on the karking sleeping bag, Fixer. We can stop by that pawn shop we saw near the spaceport and barter with the guy to give us a good deal on a blaster and whatever else the girl needs in terms of weapons." He paused. "We both know enough about pistols to not get ripped off by a greedy seller."

Fixer gave a curt nod of his head, grabbed the sleeping bag that he'd chosen, and led the way to the credit counter where the shopkeeper droid was folding pants. He cleared his throat, and offered the droid a tight smile. "I think we've found everything we need, Cylda."

"Wonderful!" Cylda cheerfully replied. "Perhaps I can interest you both in signing up for a membership…"

...


...

Fixer finished laying out the purchases that he and Hawk had made out on the table of the private break room as the last of his brothers settled into the remaining chairs.

He took a moment to peer at each of them.

Junior and Red—the two remaining Purge Troopers who went everywhere and did everything together, were sitting closest to the doorway. Both met Fixer's gaze and gave him firm nods of their heads. They were listening, they were intrigued.

Del had a calm expression on his face, likely already aware of what Fixer was about to share, given his presence in the meeting with the general the day earlier.

Hawk was sitting next to Del, and quietly munching on a ration bar that he'd pinched from one of the stormtroopers' mess halls on the way back from the main hangar bay.

Contrail—or Shadow Eleven, as he sometimes still preferred to be called even while not on assignment—gave Fixer a subtle dip of his chin. Silently telling him that he, too, was intrigued.

Seven-Four had a smirk on his face as he began to inspect the pistol that Fixer and Hawk had picked up from the pawn shop. It was an IB-94 blaster, a pistol that was on the lighter side, but one that was known to be reliable.

"It's a good little blaster, I'll give you that," the heavy weapons specialist commented once he finished with his inspection and returned the pistol to the table next to the combat knife and holster. It was a nervous habit that Seven-Four had picked up at some point during the war. But, it was a habit that they all understood and accepted.

The only brothers missing were TK-9091, TK-9092—both Spaarti Clones, and currently on the clock somewhere on Alderaan, and TK-9008—another Spaarti Clone, but the only one who still had his inhibitor chip implanted in his head. Broken chip or not, Fixer wasn't going to be taking any chances. Not with a potential Jedi on board.

"The general gave me and Hawk an assignment, as I'm sure you all can guess," Fixer began. He gestured to the stuff on the table in front of them. "This is the result." He took a deep breath in, and began to explain. "There is a stowaway on the Devastator, a young human woman from a desert planet. The general asked Hawk and me to purchase some clothing and survival gear for the girl, due to her only having the clothing that she arrived in." He frowned. "Being the nosy dinii that I am, I went looking through the security feed to see if I could find her and the way she snuck aboard the Devastator."

Clearing his throat, Fixer took a moment to settle his nerves. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't know how Junior and Red were going to react to what he was about to share. Even without the inhibitor chips, they were still different from the rest of them in the room.

"I found her. I also found the supplies closet she snuck out of." He allowed himself a smirk as his brothers mocked-cheered his accomplishment. And waited until they'd all quieted down before he dropped the metaphorical proton torpedo. "The stowaway was carrying a lightsaber."

The entire room tensed. It was like someone had stolen the air from their lungs.

Fixer nodded. "I saw her draw it on the general when she first arrived. I also saw him take it from her."

"Lord Vader—the general, I mean—he didn't kill her?" Junior was the first to break the tense silence.

Fixer shook his head. "No. She is still alive. Vader's been training her. He mentioned strength training, but I think there's a bit of lightsaber training going on as well."

"How often?" Contrail asked.

"Every nightcycle since she's arrived." Fixer thought back to all of the security feeds that he'd skimmed through. "Which was a couple of weeks ago, as best as I can tell."

"He's protecting her," Del quietly informed the room. "I was on shift when the general came to give Fixer and Hawk their assignment. His body language was that of someone worried."

"He was restless," Hawk agreed. "And he also made a point to mention that Captain Wermis would be off of the Devastator when Fixer and I bought this stuff." He gestured to the clothing and gear piled on the table.

"Vader's worried that the Emperor will find out about her," Seven-Four muttered. "The captain ordered those scout-ships to Tatooine, remember? And now Vader's made sure to bring Wermis along with him when he visits Queen Organa."

"Because she's a Jedi," Red stated to the room. He peered up at Fixer and frowned. "Lord Vader is hiding the girl from the Emperor because she is a Jedi." He gestured to Junior seated next to him. "Is she going to kill us, do you think?"

"Why would she kill you and Junior, Red?" Fixer asked him.

Red shrugged. "Because we killed all of the Jedi. Purge Troopers were created for the sole purpose to kill them. We know nothing else."

"Do you still want to kill Jedi?" Contrail asked. "Even with your chips removed, is it something that you and Junior want to do, Red?"

Junior shook his head. "I don't."

"I don't either," Red admitted quietly. "But, that's all we know to do."

"Forget about what you know," Seven-Four suggested quietly. "What do you want to do? If you could choose, what would you choose to do?"

Both Red and Junior peered down at the table in obvious contemplation.

"I want to protect the Jedi," Red said after a moment.

Junior nodded his agreement. "With my life, if I must."

Fixer offered them both what he hoped was a warm smile. "Then that is what we will all try to do." He peered around the room at his solemn brothers, all nodding their agreement. "We will try to protect this girl—this Jedi—from Emperor Palpatine."