I'm so sorry for the wait I've put you all through. Besides the problems with the site, my life has kind of sucked the past few weeks. I was considering giving this story up completely. Then I came back and read all the wonderful reviews I got and decided to keep going. Again, I apologize for the wait. But here's what you've been waiting for: Chapter three. It's kinda slow and boring, but that'll change as soon as I get into the battle against the Death Star.
Chapter Three
Bail Organa sighed, watching the hurried bustle of the base with something akin to amusement. It had been only five standard days since the destruction of Alderaan, Obi Wan's death, his escape from the Death Star...and, of course, the abduction of Lady Leia Vader. Mere days that felt like thousands of years.
Leia was still unconscious. She had lain in the same position in her bed in the med wing for all those five days, moving only when she was moved, fed through a tube that ran into her arm. The med droids came hourly, checking vitals, cleaning sheets, and giving shots. Bail, also, came hourly and sat by her bed, telling her stories of the life she would have led with him on Alderaan, and of her mother.
However now, Bail Organa was somewhat tense. The technical readouts of the Death Star were, as of yet, no help at all. There was simply too much information. The former Senator was beginning to think all his efforts, the destruction of Alderaan, and everything else had been in vain.
To top it off, he was on his way to the docking bay to meet Mon Mothma, due to arrive any moment. She already knew about the efforts being made to locate a weakness in the Death Star, of course, and that was what she was coming for. But what Bail was worried about was telling her, somehow, who lay in a coma in the medical wing, and just what she had become. Mon Mothma would be as heartbroken as he to see poor Padme's girl child so...dead to the worlds.
As he approached Mon Mothma's designated docking bay, he saw that her small vessel had already landed and that the woman was making her way toward him, flocked by all kinds of men and women, asking to be of some assistance. Gracefully, she waved them all off and embraced the Senator.
"Senator Organa," she crowed, placing her hand on his offered arm. "How are we doing with the readouts of the Death Star?"
"Progress is slow," Bail told her nothing she didn't already know. "There's so much information, and the possibility of finding a weakness is nearly nonexistent."
"We will find one," Mon Mothma said confidently. "This Death Star is no different than any other battle station. It *will* have a weakness."
"With luck, you will be right," Bail bowed his head. "But, ma'am, there is something more important you must be aware of."
"More important?" the woman laughed. "What could be more important than bringing an end to the Death Star?"
"We have captured the Lady Vader."
Mon Mothma stopped walking. She stared at Bail in open mouthed-shock, disbelief obvious in her eyes. Finally, she shook it away and resumed their walk. "The Lady Vader does not actually exist, Bail. She's just a tale made up by Palpatine."
"No, ma'am. I have met her," Bail gulped. "She is the one who pulled the levers on Alderaan."
"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry." Her voice was instantly sympathetic. She now regretted her flippant dismissal of the infamous woman's capture.
"You didn't know," Bail shrugged. He took a deep breath. "But there is something you should know about her."
"What is that?" Mon Mothma was curious to know. To learn that Lady Vader was real, was a true person, was morbidly fascinating. There were so many tales about her.
"She is Vader's daughter." The words fell from his lips so quietly, Mon Mothma almost missed them.
"Vader's dau--but that--it's impossible..." the woman trailed off, disbelieving. Finally, she voiced the question as best she could in such a state of shock. "Padme?"
"Padme's daughter, yes," Bail nodded sadly. "She's been made an assassin."
"You're sure?" Mon Mothma demanded. "You're sure it's her?"
"Absolutely. She looks so much like her mother."
"Where is she? I want to see her. How did you manage to capture her? Has she been harmed?"
Bail smiled thinly at her impatient demands. "She's here, in the med bay. She hasn't been hurt physically. Mentally, we are not so sure."
"What do you mean?" Mon Mothma's voice trembled with sudden trepidation. "What happened to her?"
"I'm not quite sure how it worked," Bail admitted. "Luke tells me that Obi Wan Kenobi did it. That, as she was moving to attack Luke, Obi Wan attacked her mind with the Force. She passed out, which was when we brought her aboard the Falcon. She's been unconscious ever since."
"Oh, dear," the woman moaned, running a hand through her hair. Then she looked up at Bail curiously. "Did you say Luke? They're *both* here?"
"Yes, ma'am. Luke came with Obi Wan Kenobi, who was killed in battle with Vader."
"Oh, *dear,*" Mon Mothma moaned again. "This could be very bad, Bail. With her training, who she was brought up by...well, she'd rather take her own life than remain here."
"Let's hope the Emperor hasn't taught her that well," Bail said mournfully. "Come with me. I'll take you to her."
Sucking in a breath, Mon Mothma made one of the hardest decisions of her life: she took Bail's hand.
*****
*****
Leia moaned, carefully sitting up in her bed and placing a hand on her pounding head. *What the hell happened? Where am I?* She glanced around the room, soon clear on the fact that she was in a hospital somewhere. Her eyes fell on the boy sleeping in a chair next to her bed, his arm and head resting mere inches from where she had been sleeping previously.
"Ugh, what a hangover," she muttered under her breath. "I really hope I didn't *sleep* with that twerp."
Sighing, she reached over and pushed him rather unceremoniously off her bed and back into the chair. His hand hit the table next to him, knocking her lightsaber to the ground. It's clattering sent waves of throbbing pain from her head all the way down her spine. She cringed and squinted at the boy again. Why did he look so familiar?
"Some place," she muttered. "Can't a girl get any pain killers around here? Where is here anyway?"
Ignoring the herd of bantha stomping around in her head, she shut her eyes and tried to remember just what the last thing she had done was. She couldn't remember getting drunk enough to have a hangover. In fact, the last thing she remembered was her father raising his lightsaber, then her own flicking on in her hands... Suddenly, her eyes flew open and landed on the kid next to her bed. Luke! The droids...oh, gods, the Jedi!
"Son of a bitch," she growled hatefully. "You've got to be kidding me. You've *got* to be fucking *kidding* me! I'm on a Rebel base!"
Anger coursing through every vein in her body, she raised her hand and squeezed, intent on killing Luke (and everyone else on the base, for that matter) and getting the hell out of there! However, as her fingers came together and she pushed gently with her mind, nothing happened. She looked down at her hands, then at the still-breathing boy and growled.
"No matter," she told herself unconvincingly. "You just have to get your bearings, Leia. Who knows how long you've been out?"
Taking a deep breath and clearing her mind, she squeezed again, this time pushing a little harder with the Force. Again, nothing happened. Disbelief written in her eyes, she extended a hand to her lightsaber, still on the floor, and willed it to her. It didn't move. The only reaction she got was the herd of bantha in her head was suddenly stampeding. She moaned and cradled her face in her hands.
"This is not happening," she muttered. "I haven't lost my power...not permanently. It'll come back... I hope. And until it does I'll just....stay....here."
Her stomach rolled at the thought. Who knew how long it would be until her power came back? What if it never did? She was stuck on a Rebel base! Even worse, the droids were probably here too, being examined. Leia leaned over the side of the bed and began to throw up. The only way this could get any *worse* was if the kid--
"Hey, you're awake!"
--woke up. Groaning, Leia sat up and looked at him, wiping her mouth in distaste.
"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly.
He looked surprised. "I could be asking you the same question."
"Not likely," Leia growled. "I'm not here willingly."
"Oh...hadn't thought of that," Luke admitted sheepishly. "Well, my name is Luke. Luke Skywalker. Who're you?"
Again, Leia's stomach flipped. Quickly, she leaned over and threw up again. Could this day get any *worse?* There was no way this was a coincidence. How common could the name Skywalker be anyway? And he was from Tatooine. Leia knew her father had grown up as a slave there, in Mos Eisley, before he had left to become a Jedi, and later a Sith lord. *I must be related to him. Now doesn't that beat all?*
"You ok?" Luke asked, concerned. "Maybe I should get you a med droid."
"No!" Leia cried forcefully enough to keep him from moving. "I'm fine. My name is Leia. Leia Va...uh, Vahlall."
She smiled, trying to look friendly. She was pleased with the name she had thought of on such short notice.
"That's pretty," the boy told her politely, smiling back at her.
"Thanks," Leia replied. She was growing impatient. All she wanted was to be left alone. "Listen...I have a really bad headache...I'd kind of like to be alone."
"Oh! Oh, of course. I'm sorry. I'll go now." He stood to leave, his foot brushing her lightsaber on the floor. He bent to pick it up, studying it curiously.
"Surely you've seen a lightsaber before," she asked dryly, pointing to the one that hung on his belt. Luke blushed, setting the weapon down on the night table.
"Of course I have," he covered quickly. "It's just...yours is different. The handle is longer. Was it poorly crafted?"
Leia rolled her eyes in disbelief. She picked it up and extended a blade. "I crafted this myself, more carefully than yours was made. And mine is ten times more dangerous than yours."
Smirking up and him, she flicked another toggle and watched as the other blade extended. For a moment, she admired the way the twin blades cast a purple glow on the white room. Then she swung the thing experimentally, taking comfort in the weapon that was an extension of her body. *At least I still have this.*
Luke watched as she flicked both blades off and set it back on the table. Nervously, and suddenly properly frightened, Luke left the girl's room. He set off in search of Bail.
*****
*****
Mon Mothma stared at the door, laughing a little nervously. She ran a quick hand through her short hair and glanced over at Bail.
"I'm nervous," she admitted quitely.
He nodded in agreement as the droid beside him let them into the room. As they went in, the machine informed them with a tinny voice that the patient was prone to becoming physically ill and violent toward visitors. Bail smiled thinly at Mon Mothma and shrugged. Taking simultaneous deep breaths, they faced the girl lying on the bed.
She was reclining casually, her arms beneath her head as she stared demurely at the ceiling. Mon Mothma's breath caught in her throat. The girl did indeed look like her mother; the same thick hair, creamy skin color, height and slim form... even lying down, Leia possesed the same confident grace of Padme Amidala. The only difference were the eyes. While Padme's had been warm, liquid brown that always shone with emotion, Leia's were hard blocks of emotionless stone, boring into and breaking what ever she set her gaze on.
"What do you want?" the girl asked harshly, breaking the tense silence. She sat up and swung her feet to the floor, casually reaching for her lightsaber.
"We came to... talk," Bail said. "Do you know who we are?"
"I know who you are, Senator," Leia muttered, rolling her eyes. "And I've got a sneaking suspicion I know who your girlfriend is, too."
Ignoring the poor choice of words obviously used to rile them, Mon Mothma smiled a bit and bowed to the girl. "I am Mon Mothma. I was a friend of your mother's."
"Like hell you were," Leia said calmly. "I was right. I do know you. And I don't like you any better then the Senator, either. Get out of here."
"We just want to talk, Leia," Bail sail peacefully. Leia laughed, a harsh sound that echoed unpleasantly off the bleak white walls.
"Lady Vader to you, Organa. And we've nothing to talk about. I'm leaving this Force-forsaken rock as soon as I'm able, and as soon as I get my powers back--"
Leia's eyes suddenly went wide as she realized her mistake. She mentally slapped herself. *Stupid! Stupid! Look how weak these fools have made you! ...Ah, well. No matter. I'll soon be gone and they'll soon be dead. No harm done.*
"You've lost your powers?" Mon Mothma tried to hide the grin on her face. Leia shrugged indifferently, standing to stretch. As she did, she flipped both the toggles on her lightsaber and twirled it experimentally.
"Even if I have," she drawled lazily. "I'm still quite handy with this, and I suggest that if you want to keep your heads attached to your shoulders, you'll leave right now. I'm becoming vexed, and things happed when I get vexed. Very *bad* things."
The two stared at Leia impassively for a moment. She took a step toward them, raising an eyebrow. Silently, Mon Mothma touched Bail's arm and led him back out into the corridor. As the door shut behind them, they could see Leia setting the lightsaber down and pinching herself harshly on both arms before returning to the bed. Mon Mothma sighed.
"As long as she had lost her Force powers, we may have a chance to save her," she said hopefully.
"I agree," Bail nodded. "And I think the best was to begin is by having Luke visit her as often as possible. He may--"
"Senator Organa! Sir!"
Bail and Mon Mothma looked up, surprised, as a young Rebel soldier sprinted up to them.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, ma'am," he said politely. "But we've done it! There is a weakness in the Death Star, and we've found it!"
*****
*****
Chapter Three
Bail Organa sighed, watching the hurried bustle of the base with something akin to amusement. It had been only five standard days since the destruction of Alderaan, Obi Wan's death, his escape from the Death Star...and, of course, the abduction of Lady Leia Vader. Mere days that felt like thousands of years.
Leia was still unconscious. She had lain in the same position in her bed in the med wing for all those five days, moving only when she was moved, fed through a tube that ran into her arm. The med droids came hourly, checking vitals, cleaning sheets, and giving shots. Bail, also, came hourly and sat by her bed, telling her stories of the life she would have led with him on Alderaan, and of her mother.
However now, Bail Organa was somewhat tense. The technical readouts of the Death Star were, as of yet, no help at all. There was simply too much information. The former Senator was beginning to think all his efforts, the destruction of Alderaan, and everything else had been in vain.
To top it off, he was on his way to the docking bay to meet Mon Mothma, due to arrive any moment. She already knew about the efforts being made to locate a weakness in the Death Star, of course, and that was what she was coming for. But what Bail was worried about was telling her, somehow, who lay in a coma in the medical wing, and just what she had become. Mon Mothma would be as heartbroken as he to see poor Padme's girl child so...dead to the worlds.
As he approached Mon Mothma's designated docking bay, he saw that her small vessel had already landed and that the woman was making her way toward him, flocked by all kinds of men and women, asking to be of some assistance. Gracefully, she waved them all off and embraced the Senator.
"Senator Organa," she crowed, placing her hand on his offered arm. "How are we doing with the readouts of the Death Star?"
"Progress is slow," Bail told her nothing she didn't already know. "There's so much information, and the possibility of finding a weakness is nearly nonexistent."
"We will find one," Mon Mothma said confidently. "This Death Star is no different than any other battle station. It *will* have a weakness."
"With luck, you will be right," Bail bowed his head. "But, ma'am, there is something more important you must be aware of."
"More important?" the woman laughed. "What could be more important than bringing an end to the Death Star?"
"We have captured the Lady Vader."
Mon Mothma stopped walking. She stared at Bail in open mouthed-shock, disbelief obvious in her eyes. Finally, she shook it away and resumed their walk. "The Lady Vader does not actually exist, Bail. She's just a tale made up by Palpatine."
"No, ma'am. I have met her," Bail gulped. "She is the one who pulled the levers on Alderaan."
"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry." Her voice was instantly sympathetic. She now regretted her flippant dismissal of the infamous woman's capture.
"You didn't know," Bail shrugged. He took a deep breath. "But there is something you should know about her."
"What is that?" Mon Mothma was curious to know. To learn that Lady Vader was real, was a true person, was morbidly fascinating. There were so many tales about her.
"She is Vader's daughter." The words fell from his lips so quietly, Mon Mothma almost missed them.
"Vader's dau--but that--it's impossible..." the woman trailed off, disbelieving. Finally, she voiced the question as best she could in such a state of shock. "Padme?"
"Padme's daughter, yes," Bail nodded sadly. "She's been made an assassin."
"You're sure?" Mon Mothma demanded. "You're sure it's her?"
"Absolutely. She looks so much like her mother."
"Where is she? I want to see her. How did you manage to capture her? Has she been harmed?"
Bail smiled thinly at her impatient demands. "She's here, in the med bay. She hasn't been hurt physically. Mentally, we are not so sure."
"What do you mean?" Mon Mothma's voice trembled with sudden trepidation. "What happened to her?"
"I'm not quite sure how it worked," Bail admitted. "Luke tells me that Obi Wan Kenobi did it. That, as she was moving to attack Luke, Obi Wan attacked her mind with the Force. She passed out, which was when we brought her aboard the Falcon. She's been unconscious ever since."
"Oh, dear," the woman moaned, running a hand through her hair. Then she looked up at Bail curiously. "Did you say Luke? They're *both* here?"
"Yes, ma'am. Luke came with Obi Wan Kenobi, who was killed in battle with Vader."
"Oh, *dear,*" Mon Mothma moaned again. "This could be very bad, Bail. With her training, who she was brought up by...well, she'd rather take her own life than remain here."
"Let's hope the Emperor hasn't taught her that well," Bail said mournfully. "Come with me. I'll take you to her."
Sucking in a breath, Mon Mothma made one of the hardest decisions of her life: she took Bail's hand.
*****
*****
Leia moaned, carefully sitting up in her bed and placing a hand on her pounding head. *What the hell happened? Where am I?* She glanced around the room, soon clear on the fact that she was in a hospital somewhere. Her eyes fell on the boy sleeping in a chair next to her bed, his arm and head resting mere inches from where she had been sleeping previously.
"Ugh, what a hangover," she muttered under her breath. "I really hope I didn't *sleep* with that twerp."
Sighing, she reached over and pushed him rather unceremoniously off her bed and back into the chair. His hand hit the table next to him, knocking her lightsaber to the ground. It's clattering sent waves of throbbing pain from her head all the way down her spine. She cringed and squinted at the boy again. Why did he look so familiar?
"Some place," she muttered. "Can't a girl get any pain killers around here? Where is here anyway?"
Ignoring the herd of bantha stomping around in her head, she shut her eyes and tried to remember just what the last thing she had done was. She couldn't remember getting drunk enough to have a hangover. In fact, the last thing she remembered was her father raising his lightsaber, then her own flicking on in her hands... Suddenly, her eyes flew open and landed on the kid next to her bed. Luke! The droids...oh, gods, the Jedi!
"Son of a bitch," she growled hatefully. "You've got to be kidding me. You've *got* to be fucking *kidding* me! I'm on a Rebel base!"
Anger coursing through every vein in her body, she raised her hand and squeezed, intent on killing Luke (and everyone else on the base, for that matter) and getting the hell out of there! However, as her fingers came together and she pushed gently with her mind, nothing happened. She looked down at her hands, then at the still-breathing boy and growled.
"No matter," she told herself unconvincingly. "You just have to get your bearings, Leia. Who knows how long you've been out?"
Taking a deep breath and clearing her mind, she squeezed again, this time pushing a little harder with the Force. Again, nothing happened. Disbelief written in her eyes, she extended a hand to her lightsaber, still on the floor, and willed it to her. It didn't move. The only reaction she got was the herd of bantha in her head was suddenly stampeding. She moaned and cradled her face in her hands.
"This is not happening," she muttered. "I haven't lost my power...not permanently. It'll come back... I hope. And until it does I'll just....stay....here."
Her stomach rolled at the thought. Who knew how long it would be until her power came back? What if it never did? She was stuck on a Rebel base! Even worse, the droids were probably here too, being examined. Leia leaned over the side of the bed and began to throw up. The only way this could get any *worse* was if the kid--
"Hey, you're awake!"
--woke up. Groaning, Leia sat up and looked at him, wiping her mouth in distaste.
"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly.
He looked surprised. "I could be asking you the same question."
"Not likely," Leia growled. "I'm not here willingly."
"Oh...hadn't thought of that," Luke admitted sheepishly. "Well, my name is Luke. Luke Skywalker. Who're you?"
Again, Leia's stomach flipped. Quickly, she leaned over and threw up again. Could this day get any *worse?* There was no way this was a coincidence. How common could the name Skywalker be anyway? And he was from Tatooine. Leia knew her father had grown up as a slave there, in Mos Eisley, before he had left to become a Jedi, and later a Sith lord. *I must be related to him. Now doesn't that beat all?*
"You ok?" Luke asked, concerned. "Maybe I should get you a med droid."
"No!" Leia cried forcefully enough to keep him from moving. "I'm fine. My name is Leia. Leia Va...uh, Vahlall."
She smiled, trying to look friendly. She was pleased with the name she had thought of on such short notice.
"That's pretty," the boy told her politely, smiling back at her.
"Thanks," Leia replied. She was growing impatient. All she wanted was to be left alone. "Listen...I have a really bad headache...I'd kind of like to be alone."
"Oh! Oh, of course. I'm sorry. I'll go now." He stood to leave, his foot brushing her lightsaber on the floor. He bent to pick it up, studying it curiously.
"Surely you've seen a lightsaber before," she asked dryly, pointing to the one that hung on his belt. Luke blushed, setting the weapon down on the night table.
"Of course I have," he covered quickly. "It's just...yours is different. The handle is longer. Was it poorly crafted?"
Leia rolled her eyes in disbelief. She picked it up and extended a blade. "I crafted this myself, more carefully than yours was made. And mine is ten times more dangerous than yours."
Smirking up and him, she flicked another toggle and watched as the other blade extended. For a moment, she admired the way the twin blades cast a purple glow on the white room. Then she swung the thing experimentally, taking comfort in the weapon that was an extension of her body. *At least I still have this.*
Luke watched as she flicked both blades off and set it back on the table. Nervously, and suddenly properly frightened, Luke left the girl's room. He set off in search of Bail.
*****
*****
Mon Mothma stared at the door, laughing a little nervously. She ran a quick hand through her short hair and glanced over at Bail.
"I'm nervous," she admitted quitely.
He nodded in agreement as the droid beside him let them into the room. As they went in, the machine informed them with a tinny voice that the patient was prone to becoming physically ill and violent toward visitors. Bail smiled thinly at Mon Mothma and shrugged. Taking simultaneous deep breaths, they faced the girl lying on the bed.
She was reclining casually, her arms beneath her head as she stared demurely at the ceiling. Mon Mothma's breath caught in her throat. The girl did indeed look like her mother; the same thick hair, creamy skin color, height and slim form... even lying down, Leia possesed the same confident grace of Padme Amidala. The only difference were the eyes. While Padme's had been warm, liquid brown that always shone with emotion, Leia's were hard blocks of emotionless stone, boring into and breaking what ever she set her gaze on.
"What do you want?" the girl asked harshly, breaking the tense silence. She sat up and swung her feet to the floor, casually reaching for her lightsaber.
"We came to... talk," Bail said. "Do you know who we are?"
"I know who you are, Senator," Leia muttered, rolling her eyes. "And I've got a sneaking suspicion I know who your girlfriend is, too."
Ignoring the poor choice of words obviously used to rile them, Mon Mothma smiled a bit and bowed to the girl. "I am Mon Mothma. I was a friend of your mother's."
"Like hell you were," Leia said calmly. "I was right. I do know you. And I don't like you any better then the Senator, either. Get out of here."
"We just want to talk, Leia," Bail sail peacefully. Leia laughed, a harsh sound that echoed unpleasantly off the bleak white walls.
"Lady Vader to you, Organa. And we've nothing to talk about. I'm leaving this Force-forsaken rock as soon as I'm able, and as soon as I get my powers back--"
Leia's eyes suddenly went wide as she realized her mistake. She mentally slapped herself. *Stupid! Stupid! Look how weak these fools have made you! ...Ah, well. No matter. I'll soon be gone and they'll soon be dead. No harm done.*
"You've lost your powers?" Mon Mothma tried to hide the grin on her face. Leia shrugged indifferently, standing to stretch. As she did, she flipped both the toggles on her lightsaber and twirled it experimentally.
"Even if I have," she drawled lazily. "I'm still quite handy with this, and I suggest that if you want to keep your heads attached to your shoulders, you'll leave right now. I'm becoming vexed, and things happed when I get vexed. Very *bad* things."
The two stared at Leia impassively for a moment. She took a step toward them, raising an eyebrow. Silently, Mon Mothma touched Bail's arm and led him back out into the corridor. As the door shut behind them, they could see Leia setting the lightsaber down and pinching herself harshly on both arms before returning to the bed. Mon Mothma sighed.
"As long as she had lost her Force powers, we may have a chance to save her," she said hopefully.
"I agree," Bail nodded. "And I think the best was to begin is by having Luke visit her as often as possible. He may--"
"Senator Organa! Sir!"
Bail and Mon Mothma looked up, surprised, as a young Rebel soldier sprinted up to them.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, ma'am," he said politely. "But we've done it! There is a weakness in the Death Star, and we've found it!"
*****
*****