A Single Thread
Part I: A New Hope
Act III
Patience, according to her father, was a virtue.
Unfortunately, Leia Organa had very little of it, and it was showing.
With great effort, she stopped her pacing and purposefully sat down on the durasteel bench inside of her small, dimly lit cell in the detention center of the Death Star.
Kenobi better get here soon, she thought irritably.
It was a good thing that her father's attention was currently focused elsewhere, probably reminding himself for the hundredth time in an hour that he couldn't afford to just kill Tarkin yet, because she didn't want him knowing she didn't have as much faith in his old Master as he did.
Which, she was well aware, was entirely too ironic.
Darth Vader trusted that Obi-Wan Kenobi would show, to rescue the Sith Lord's only daughter, who wasn't supposed to know that she was his daughter, because said Sith Lord wasn't supposed to know he had a daughter. It would have been amusing, had she been in a better mood.
It wasn't concern for her own life that prompted her impatience, though.
On the contrary, she knew that if Kenobi didn't arrive in time, her father would do whatever it took to save her life, even if that meant directly turning on Tarkin and taking on the entire crew aboard the Death Star.
And it would mean a death sentence for him, when the Emperor found out.
Thankfully, Bail Organa had gone out of his way to keep her away from Palpatine's view during her youth, and her father had likewise ensured that she would not have to spend time in the Emperor's presence until she was a member of the Imperial Senate. Just being anywhere remotely near the Emperor made something inside of Leia shudder, and she was certain it had to do with more than just the fact that he was a Sith, for she had never had such a reaction to her father, not even the first time she had seen him choke someone with the Force on the HoloNet.
He had taken great care not to do such things in her presence, of course, but she had learned about them just the same as she grew older
I wonder if he'll choke Tarkin for his incompetence after I escape, Leia thought with a touch of malicious glee.
Bail would have been terribly disappointed to hear her thinking such a thing, but she couldn't help the way she felt. The day Tarkin died, she rather wanted there to be a parade, with interstellar bands and lightstreamers and the entire works, just to show the galaxy what a true celebration it was.
After what he'd done to Alderaan, Leia would have liked to get the Governor alone in a locked room, her father's lightsaber in hand.
She had begun instruction with the elegant, deadly weapon at the age of fourteen, after years of begging and being told that she was too young. It was too dangerous to risk letting her have a lightsaber of her own, of course, if she'd been discovered to own one it would have tipped off Bail and the Emperor, but her father had let her wield his often enough that she had been able to gain a sufficient mastery with the weapon.
Of course, that didn't mean she was eager to test her skills out against a real Jedi.
Though she had been careful to shield such thoughts, Leia couldn't help feeling a twinge of dread at the thought of her father once again facing off with his former Master.
After all, the last time they had met, her father had been permanently scarred and broken.
Full of anxiety, she was tempted to reach out to her father with the Force, but he had cautioned her against it, lest they alert Kenobi to the unforeseen developments in his plans. While Obi-Wan might be a galaxy away at the moment, he also might already be onboard the Death Star for all she knew, her father had told her he would not be able to warn her of the Jedi's arrival, and she couldn't risk it.
Sighing, she lay down across the durasteel bench, and stared up at the black ceiling high overhead.
Her thoughts turned to her foster family, but she would not allow herself to wonder what their final moments had been like, that line of thinking would only lead her into madness. Instead, she thought back to her childhood, of how Bail always made time to read her a story before bed, even if he was offworld he would comm the palace and read to her over the comm-unit by her bed.
Oh, Papa, she thought, closing her eyes as her heart wrenched painfully. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault.
And it was, in the end.
It was because of her that Tarkin had chosen Alderaan, of all worlds, to destroy, and she would have to carry that burden, to live with that guilt, for the rest of her life.
You are not to blame for this, her father had told her with quiet firmness during his visit to her cell shortly after her homeworld's destruction. There is only one who can be held accountable for Alderaan's destruction, Leia, and it is not you. None of this is your fault, my child.
Deep down, she knew that he was right, knew that she was not responsible, but in her heart...
In her heart, just as in her dreams when she'd let sleep take her since watching her homeworld be destroyed, she heard Bail asking why she hadn't saved them, heard her people crying out, demanding to know why she had to join the Rebellion and bring this tragedy upon them all.
Dreams pass in time, or so her father had always told her when nightmares plagued her sleep.
But somehow, Leia suspected that these dreams, and the memory of the stillness that had fallen over the galaxy in the instant before Alderaan was wiped away, would haunt her for several lifetimes.
A sudden commotion filtered through the thick walls of her cell, and Leia blinked, startled, snapping her head around to stare at the door.
Then there was silence for a long, tense moment.
She didn't dare reach out with her Force perceptions, if it was Obi-Wan she wasn't supposed to even know the Force existed, much less how to use it, but she sensed a strong, bright presence drawing closer to her now, one that she felt, inexplicable as it was, that she could almost remember from a lifetime ago.
Perhaps Obi-Wan had been there when she was born, that would explain it.
Faint noise seeped through the heavy door of her detention cell, and she thought she heard a blaster in the distance, so she took a deep breath, drawing her mental shields tighter around her mind as she purposefully relaxed her body.
On the inside, though, she was anything but relaxed.
She was about to come face to face with Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master who had raised her father and trained him in the ways of the Force.
And she had to admit, she was curious to find out what he was like.
If there was one subject that she had learned, at a young age, not to pester her father about, it was anything related to Obi-Wan. It was painful for him to speak about her mother, but he indulged her questions, if only because he felt it prudent that a girl know her mother in memory, if not in actuality. He had even occasionally answered her questions about the Jedi, albeit with obvious bitterness towards the extinct Order.
They had taken much from him after all.
But Obi-Wan was a mystery, of sorts, one that she had often wondered about despite herself. She knew that he had confronted her father shortly after her father had joined Palpatine, knew that there had been a duel which ended with her father forever trapped within a prison of black armor.
Before that, though, they had been friends, comrades... family, even.
Her father had loved this man once, of that she was wholly certain, despite his denial of any such thing.
And now, at some point during this rescue and escape, her father was going to confront Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man who had been the only father a young Anakin Skywalker had ever known, and kill him.
Despite herself, Leia shivered as she closed her eyes.
A low whoosh alerted her that the door to her cell had just opened, but she waited a full heartbeat before opening her eyes, as if she had just come out of a half-sleep, and lifted her head expecting to find herself staring back at a greatly aged version of the single holo she had ever seen of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
But it was not the Jedi Master who stepped through the door.
Instead, it was a stormtrooper.
A remarkably short stormtrooper who was staring at her quite strangely.
Irritated, Leia raised an eyebrow as she propped herself on one elbow. "Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?" she asked pointedly.
"Huh?" came a voice that didn't fit with the armor. "Oh, the uniform."
With that, the stormtrooper pulled off his helmet, revealing a tousle of blond hair and the handsome face of a young man who couldn't be older than she was, who might have been even younger, perhaps, he had such a gentle, naive expression.
Leia started to open her mouth, but her eyes caught with his and instantly the rest of the galaxy faded away, a dim whisper of a half-forgotten dream stirring within her heart, like a faint echo of a familiar song that she knew every note of, but couldn't seem to place.
And then the boy spoke, and the galaxy suffered a paradigm shift.
"I'm Luke Skywalker," he told her earnestly. "I'm here to rescue you."
A zap of something like lightning shot through Leia's entire body, from her head to the tips of her toes, and she jolted with shock, as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head.
"You're who!" she demanded incredulously, unable to tear her gaze away from those blue, blue eyes as she sat up, the detention cell forgotten, her worries for her father forgotten. Everything except for that boy, that name, ceased to exist to her in that moment.
Everything inside of her rebelled, fiercely and defiantly, for the only one with the right to claim that name was her, it was her birthright, the name she had been born with.
But those eyes... she knew those eyes.
"I'm here to rescue you," Luke repeated quickly, gesturing over his shoulder towards the open door, where the sounds of blaster fire could still be heard in the distance. "I've got your Artoo unit. I'm here with Ben Kenobi!"
"Ben Kenobi?" Leia echoed in surprise, pulling her shields tighter again, and cursing herself in case she had been broadcasting in the presence of the Jedi Master. Had Obi-Wan changed his name when he went into hiding from the Empire? It didn't matter, she reminded herself sharply, she was supposed to be escaping, after all. "Where is he?"
"Come on," Luke urged, gesturing toward the door.
Without bothering to lift her dress, Leia bounded across the floor of the cell and up the steps leading to the dimly lit corridor of the detention center, following the golden haired boy with her true name.
And her father's eyes.