Force of Destiny
Chapter 25
Revelations
**
Leia Organa could not sleep. That in itself was nothing new for her. Ever since Han had been frozen in carbonite, sleep had become a rare commodity for the Alderaanian princess.
But now Han was back at her side. Literally - the smuggler was stretched out on his stomach, one arm thrown across her body, dead to the world. And still, Leia could not sleep. It wasn't Han's snoring. That had stopped when he turned over to snuggle more comfortably against her. It wasn't the hard floor, either. During her years in the Rebel Alliance, Leia had become accustomed to the strangest sleeping accommodations imaginable. A floor was comfortable by comparison. No, it was the presence of Darth Vader right next door that kept her from getting any rest. Not that Vader seemed to be faring much better; Leia could hear him toss and turn, and sometimes mumble something in his slumber. She sighed, and again closed her eyes to try and get some rest. Vader would certainly not try anything tonight.
**
"I do not trust this Admiral Piett", Padmé repeated. Sitting rigidly upright in her chair, the former Queen of Naboo regarded the gathered Rebel leaders. Her posture did nothing to hide her indignation "He is one of Vader's own."
"True, Padmé", Mon Mothma granted. "And, according to him, that is exactly why he is here."
"You believe this ploy?"
Mon shook her head. "I do not know what to believe. Admiral Piett has provided proof that Lord Vader has been... mistreated by the Empire, to put it mildly. Our experts found no trace of forgery. The data seems to be genuine." She allowed herself a smile before continuing in her soft voice: "I, too, find it hard to believe that Lord Vader would join us. Yet, we cannot turn Admiral Piett down. He did not come alone. He brought the most powerful ship the Empire has, and that ship alone could reduce a third of our fleet to space debris before we could destroy it. So, our choices are rather limited. General Madine?"
"We sent a prize crew aboard Executor. So far, the officers and crew have co-operated fully with our people. Reports indicate that Executor is short on staff, a fact that Admiral Piett did relay to us, but otherwise fully battle worthy."
"Your recommendation, General?"
"Accept their offer, but keep the ship on the edge of the fleet. Do not divulge any sensitive information to them. Brief the prize crew accordingly."
"A wise course, General." Mothma nodded.
"Security also suggests to plant explosive devices on board Executor, as a safeguard only, to disable her drive and weapons' systems should the need arise", Madine continued.
"I must protest", Ackbar cut in. "While the other measures make sense, such an open display of mistrust would only serve to alienate Executor's crew."
"Admiral Ackbar is correct. We cannot afford to antagonize our new allies. The potential danger involved is simply to great." Mon Mothma looked around the assembled Rebel leaders. "Are we in agreement, then?"
"Except for one point, Madame President. I insist on a liaison officer of my own choosing."
The use of her formal title from Padmé did not bode well in Mon's opinion; it made her words an official request, if not an order.
"Name him, please." There was a chance that Padmé's choice was sensible, even given her open hatred of the Empire and especially Darth Vader.
"General Jar Jar Binks."
Mon Mothma's jaw almost dropped. The tall, lanky Gungan stepped forward from his customary place behind and slightly to the side of the former queen.
"Meesa, yousa Majesty?"
"In more than thirty years, you have served me well. Now you will be my eyes and ears aboard the Executor."
Madine cleared his throat. "Do you think that is wise?" he asked with a sidelong glance at the alien; Binks was a lot of things, but certainly no spy.
Mon Mothma hushed Madine with a small gesture.
"What General Madine is saying is that you will be without a bodyguard if you send General Binks on this mission."
"General Binks is a hero of the Trade Federation war. He has my complete trust", Padmé declared. The Gungan beamed at his queen.
"Meesa not be disappointin' yousa majesty", he answered, eyestalks waving.
Mon Mothma stood and addressed the assembly: "Then this meeting is closed."
**
Once in the relative privacy of her office, Mothma turned to Madine.
"What do we know about General Binks?" she asked. "Aside from the fact that Padmé trusts him."
The former Imperial shook his head. "It would have been kinder to go with Security's suggestion and plant explosives."
Mothma's expression turned grave. "That bad? He does not look like it at all."
"He's not. Not in the usual sense, at least."
Mothma sank into the chair behind her desk. "Kindly explain this to me, General. What is this Binks? A trained assassin? A special forces operative?"
Madine ran a hand over his face; he felt suddenly tired. "No, madam. He is none of these things. He is merely... clumsy."
"Clumsy?" Mothma echoed.
"I'm afraid this is too mild a word, madam. How can I explain so you understand... this Gungan once nearly blew up a whole city simply by tripping over his own feet. That kind of clumsy."
"O dear... I have a bad feeling about this."
**
Anakin sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. A nightmare. It had only been another nightmare. The Jedi threw back the tangled, clammy blankets and, with a shaking hand, wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Damn his subconscious mind for bringing up his most horrifying memories in the dead of night. Cocking his head to one side, he listened to the sounds of the other temporary inhabitants of the farm, realizing after a few seconds that he did not hear the wind howl around the buildings anymore. The sandstorm had let up during the night.
Sighing deeply, he ran his hand over his face and then checked his chronometer. Only an hour left until sunrise. He could as well get up now.
Shaking the blankets off, Anakin stood and put his boots on. He had not bothered to undress completely, knowing that the nights on Tattooine were as cold as the days were hot.
What now? He knew he would be unable to get any more rest, but he did not wish to wake the others just yet. Maybe he should simply sneak into the kitchen and make some tea. It might even help his nerves, he thought wryly.
**
Leia decided she had had enough of lying awake when she heard Vader stir in the adjacent room. For a moment, she debated whether or not she should wake Han. He certainly needed his rest. On the other hand, if Vader was up to something - and that was certainly not a big "if" in Leia's opinion - not waking Han might result in all of them taking a very long rest very soon.
"Han?" she whispered. "Han?" The Correllian stirred in his sleep, hugging her closer to himself.
"Han, wake up!" Leia hissed.
"Mmhh? Whazzup?"
"Vader is up."
Han rolled over on his back without even opening his eyes. "So what?" he asked in a drowsy murmur. "He's prob'ly taking a trip to the bathroom."
Leia gaped at him. It took her several moments before she recovered her wits. "Oh, you... go back to sleep, you half-witted Nerf herder! I will take care of it myself!"
Kicking back the covers, the former princess of Alderaan got to her feet and grabbed the blaster she had placed on the floor next to the blankets. Vader would not get away with whatever it was he was planning if she had anything to say about it!
Still half asleep, Han did not question her, but allowed his mind to drift back into the realm of dreams.
**
Leia crept down the short corridor, blaster at the ready, following the Dark Lord. She half expected Vader to turn around and draw his lightsaber at any moment. However, this did not happen. Instead, Vader shuffled into the kitchen and started looking through the cupboards, yawning and mumbling something under his breath. The princess watched as he took out a mug and a box containing teabags and put the kettle on. Still he seemed unaware of her presence. It was almost surreal to watch Darth Vader perform such everyday tasks.
Suddenly, her prey tensed. He had sensed her. She could see it in his stance, in the set of his broad shoulders. In one moment, he went from being a tired, up-too-early regular man to the deadly fighter who was always completely in control. And then, that moment was gone, too, and he relaxed again. Slowly. Consciously. Taking a second mug, he turned around to face her. He looked tired, and a little sheepish.
"At least I'm not the only one who cannot sleep", he said softly. "I hope I did not wake you, your Highness."
Leia let the hand holding the blaster drop to her side. "You didn't", she replied. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
He shrugged, giving her a half-smile. "Nightmares. Occupational hazard, I guess."
She nodded. She had had more than her fare share of those as well.
"Would you like some tea?" he asked, holding the mug out to her.
"I..." Leia shook her head. She had not expected this. Come to think of it, what had she expected? A squad of stormtroopers charging into the farm, killing them all in their sleep? They would have had difficulty getting here during the sandstorm. "Yes, I would like a cup of tea very much, thank you."
"Splendid!"
**
A few minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen table, steaming mugs in front of them, and a cookie jar placed strategically between them.
Vader simply watched her, silently sipping his tea, while Leia nibbled on one of the cookies. The silence stretched between them until Leia could take it no longer.
"What was that about, on the sail barge?" she asked.
Vader blinked, suddenly shaken out of his reverie by her question. "What?"
"On Jabba's barge, during the fight. You froze."
"Oh, that. I..." How to tell her? How to tell Leia Organa that she looked and acted like the wife of Darth Vader? He couldn't. She would probably scratch his eyes out. So he settled for a half truth.
"For a moment there, you reminded me of your mother", he began. "I knew Saché before you were born, before she even married Bail Organa. She was quite a fighter in her youth."
Leia shook her head, silently laughing to herself. On Vader's puzzled frown, she replied: "It's strange, you know. A lot of people have remarked on that, but..." She bit her lip, dropping her gaze to the table. Leia's adopted parents had always insisted that she never speak about her adoption. Never. But they were dead now,
just like her real parents. Had been since Alderaan had exploded under the first Death Star's volleys.
"I apologize, your Highness. I did not mean to stir up bad memories."
Surprised, Leia lifted her eyes to Vader again. He meant what he said. He seemed to genuinely regret the pain he had caused her. She could see it in his face.
"It's not that", she said. Why keep the secret any longer? Her adopted parents were dead, as was her home planet. She was a fugitive. Who could she hurt with the truth?
"Saché Organa wasn't my mother. I was adopted." Leia looked down again, turning her half-empty mug between her hands. "My real mother's name was Padmé", she continued. "Mother - Saché, I mean - once told me she had been handmaiden to Queen Amidala of the Naboo."
The clatter of Vader's mug hitting the floor made her look up in alarm; the Dark Lord had jumped up from his seat, gaping at her in utter shock. He was white as a sheet.
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