Chapter 2 – Tongue Tied

Leia's heart hammered in her ears. Maybe that's why they called them eardrums. Surely Vader could hear it, couldn't he? It was so loud.

How long had he been staring at her? A full minute? It felt like a full hour. He'd asked for her name. She had considered lying, but there wasn't much point. It was all there in the file. Why hadn't she just changed her first name too? It was so stupid in retrospect.

He knew. He had to know. He was putting the pieces together right now. What would he do? Arrest her? He had no reason to do so. It wasn't as if she had committed any crime, or at least none which he knew about. Would he inform her parents? Why would he do that? Vader had no obligation to the Organas.

"My lord –" she began, but Vader cut her off.

"Leia."

She blinked twice. "Uh… yes. That's what I said." Another awkward silence. "Leia Appenza," she added, emphasizing her alias. "That's my full name."

"Yes," Vader said, his voice distant. "I see."

Leia released a shaky breath. Maybe he didn't know? Wouldn't he have said something by now if he did?

"Um… may I go?" she asked.

Vader shook his head. "Your arm," he requested.

"What?"

"Your arm." He produced a small instrument, seemingly out of thin air. Leia eyed it warily. "I require a sample of your blood."

Her heart skipped a beat. "No!" she blurted out. "I mean…" She took another breath. "Why?"

"Because I say so," Vader rumbled.

Leia gulped. "But…"

"Yes?"

There was no way out of this. Dropping her helmet to the ground, Leia rolled up her sleeve and extended her arm.

"Good," Vader said. Leia stiffened when he grabbed her elbow. "To answer your question, I am testing your blood for midichlorians."

"Midi-what?"

"Midichlorians," Vader repeated without elaboration.

"What are –" Her question was interrupted by a sharp prick to her arm. "Ow!"

"I suspect you are highly attuned to the Force," Vader said as he retracted the device and pressed a thumb to the spot on her arm. Leia winced. His grip was strong. "This information will tell me just how much."

Leia had no idea what to make of this. Why was Vader talking so much about the Force? Wasn't that a Jedi thing? Her father had told her a bit about them. They would use the Force to move objects with their mind or something like that. It all seemed a bit fantastical, but her father swore it was real. But Leia couldn't do anything like that. So why was Vader acting like she could?

Vader released her arm and Leia rolled her sleeve down. "May I go now?" she asked.

"You may," Vader said. "But we will be speaking again soon."

"We will? Why?"

Vader did not answer her. "Get something to eat," he instructed. "It looks like you need it."

With that oddly considerate remark, Vader turned on his heel and marched away. Leia stood there rooted to the spot, watching his inky black cloak ripple behind him. All things considered, that hadn't gone too badly. That said, she was in a tricky spot. What would happen when Vader learned who she was from that blood sample?

She wouldn't be around to find out. The time to defect had come.

It was earlier than she'd wanted, but Vader's arrival forced her hand. So upon leaving the hangar bay, Leia sped down the hallway in the direction of the barracks rather than the mess. She wasn't hungry, anyway. The queasy sensation roiling in her stomach was more than enough to suppress her appetite. That had been happening a lot lately, hadn't it? Leia was a proud person, but even she could admit the stress had been mounting to an overwhelming level lately. Who knew leading a secret Rebel ring in an Imperial academy could be so difficult?

That was a joke, albeit not a particularly funny one. Leia knew what she was getting into when she ran away from Alderaan two years ago. It had been the boldest and best thing she had ever done. Being raised a princess, Leia had been groomed for politics and administration. Yet she felt no calling to these realms. She never had. It was all dreadfully dull. For as long as she could remember, Leia had always preferred to crane her head to the sky rather than tuck her nose into a holobook. What could she say? The stars had always been her calling.

Her parents – adopted parents, that is – had been exceptionally patient, but in the months leading up to her sixteenth birthday they'd started putting more pressure on her. She understood the predicament she had put them in. Because while Alderaan was a monarchy, the heir to the throne was not yet confirmed until she or he proved themselves worthy after their sixteenth birthday. Yet Leia had never shown any inclination toward achieving this end, because in fact she had no such inclination. She dreaded the responsibilities which would be foisted upon her when she ascended to the throne. It terrified her to no end to be confined to a palace, to be forbidden from leaving her home world when all she wanted was to roam freely amongst the stars.

So when her mother had come to her that night a month before her birthday and asked her, nay begged her to cooperate, to compromise, to concede, Leia had decided then and there to run away. It wasn't that she disliked her parents – far from it! Leia loved the Organas. They had adopted her as their own and showed her nothing but kindness all her life. Yet Leia knew her fate didn't belong with them. She was never meant to be a princess, nor was Alderaan ever meant to be her home. It was an intrinsic truth which defied explanation. How did she know that she belonged in the cockpit rather than on a throne? Leia could only shrug. Call it a feeling.

She arrived in the barracks, and with a swipe of her keycard, Leia was walking down the long hallway toward her dormitory. Of a class of nearly a hundred pilots, there were only three other girls, so naturally they all shared a room. Leia was the first to arrive, the rest still at the mess, she imagined.

Leia didn't particularly like two of her roommates. Alva was a big, mean girl who looked like she belonged in the Stormtrooper Corps rather than the Fighter Corps. Then there was Ione who was tall and wiry, a natural pilot, yet notoriously lazy and undisciplined in the cockpit. Leia had tried to be friendly – that was her natural disposition, after all – but nothing she did seemed to sway them. They were both jealous of her, she supposed. They didn't like all the attention she got, whether it be from the other boys or from the instructors, Colonel Roth especially. Leia could understand that latter frustration, at least in part. Roth was effusive in his praise for her. It was a bit overwhelming, actually, but Leia couldn't pretend as if she didn't appreciate it. He confirmed to her that she had made the right choice, that her abilities as a pilot were not just adequate, but exceptional.

But luckily Leia wasn't alone in this dorm. She did have one friend. And when the door opened behind her, Leia spun around to see her standing there.

"Val," she said, a smile on her lips. It was such a relief to see her rather than one of the other girls.

"Hey Leia."

Val was a little taller than herself, although that didn't make her tall by any measure. Ione towered over her, in fact. But to Leia, everyone seemed tall, and with Val, she always seemed bigger than life, somehow. She was a slender creature with puffy black hair and smooth, ebony skin. Her eyes, hazel brown and shaped like almonds, were impossibly captivating, magnetic almost. When she looked at her, Leia had no choice but to stare back. And that's what Leia did now.

She was very pretty.

"Tell me what happened with Vader."

Leia blinked twice. Vader… what happened… oh! Right.

"It's not good," she said, voice trembling. "I've got to go. Now."

"Woah, woah. Calm down," Val said. She set her flight helmet down on the top bunk. Stepping forward, she grabbed Leia's forearms and steadied her. "Does he know about the pact?"

Leia shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Then what's so bad that happened?"

Leia told her what she could. But Val couldn't understand why she had to run. She had no idea who Leia really was. Leia had never told her, no matter how much she wanted to. It was too dangerous.

"I know you're scared, but running won't help," Val said, but Leia was shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Val. This isn't a debate. I'm doing it."

"But why?"

Leia pulled herself free from Val's grip and paced away. "Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Do I… ? Of course I do."

"So will you help me?"

She turned around. Val had folded her arms and pursed her lips with concern. "What about the pact?"

"You'll take over for me."

Val frowned. "What? No, Leia. I'm going with you."

"Val, no –"

"This isn't a debate," she said, smirking.

Leia sighed. "Then what about the rest of the pact? It'll fall apart without us, you know that."

"Then dissolve it. Mass defection, now's the time."

"Now? But –"

Val grabbed her by the shoulders and Leia turned very still. "You're our leader, Leia. Without you, there is no pact."

She was right, although Leia would never say so. The pact had been her creation. It was her way of fighting against the Empire. The process had been slow going. Over the course of eighteen months, Leia had methodically surveyed her peers, reading their files and observing them from afar. If they ticked all the boxes, she would make her approach.

Val had been her first recruit. It hadn't been hard for her to glean she didn't like the Empire. She came from a dirt poor Outer Rim world where the Empire collectivized everything and forced the population into work camps. With Val as her ally, Leia had been able to make much quicker progress. The pact now consisted of nine devoted members, all of whom had signed a pledge of secrecy. But Leia was paranoid. All it took was one person to crack, and this whole operation went down in flames. And with Vader here, everyone was going to feel the strain.

"If we're going to do this… we have to do it right," Leia said. "And we have to do it fast. I reckon we have no more than four hours until Vader gets the results back."

"Four hours?" Val sucked in her lips as she considered. "It's doable. Difficult, but doable."

"Assemble the boys," Leia instructed. "If anyone gives you trouble, don't try to convince them. There's no time. Just cut them loose."

"Do you think any of them would do that?"

"I don't know," Leia said. "I hope not, but some of them…" She shook her head. "Ask Biggs first. He'll have a better idea than either of us. If he thinks there's a weak link, we cut them out without telling them what's happening. It's too risky otherwise."

"Sure," Val said. "I trust Biggs's judgement."

"So do I."

Besides Val, Biggs was her closest friend on this lonely base. He was a good man, hopelessly naïve, but also hopelessly well-intentioned. He was also a natural-born leader. With Leia so often overwhelmed, Biggs was always there to hold things together. He held both unknown charisma and powerful persuasion. Perhaps it came from the mustache.

"Can you handle that without me?" Leia asked. "I think I need to… I don't know. I just need to sit down for a second."

"Of course," Val said. She placed a hand on her shoulder, and Leia stiffened again. "Get some rest. You deserve it after today."

"I, uh… yeah." Why couldn't she speak? Her tongue was twisted into knots.

Val smiled. "This is going to work," she said. "I promise." Picking up her flight helmet, Val turned to leave. The door opened, and Leia felt a spark of panic.

"Val!"

Her friend glanced back at her. "Yeah?"

Thank you, she wanted to say. Thank you for everything. But there was more than that. She wanted to say more. She wanted to say… she needed to say…

"Nothing."

Val winked at her. "It'll be fine, I promise."

And just like that, she was gone.

Leia sat down on her bunk, deflated. She felt an emptiness in her stomach, and it wasn't just because she hadn't eaten.

She held her head in her hands and tried not to cry.

But like so many times before, she failed.

Δ Δ Δ

He sat in the cockpit of his personal shuttle. His eyes were closed, metal hands rested against his metal knees. Posture rigid, discipline of steel – Darth Vader was impervious, indestructible. Or so he led others to assume.

Beneath the mask, beneath the armor, beneath the scarred sinews, he was afraid. This was nothing new; he lived in fear, cowering, hiding, fleeing. Of his past? Of his future? One and the same. But this girl… something about her had shaken him. And it was beyond her power, which of course was immense, but rather something intrinsic about her very self. It was ineffable. He had sensed it the moment he arrived on Palaam, and now the sensation, familiar yet foreign, invigorating yet terrifying, had wormed its way into his brain, twisting and coiling like a Kouhun.

There was a sound to his left. Vader was slow to open his eyes. Turning, he saw the datapad had finished its analysis of the girl's blood. He stood from his chair – agonizingly – and approached the datapad. He removed the vial of blood from the connecting port and set it aside on the control panel. He waited for the datapad to load its report, metal fingers drumming against his armored thigh, impatient, agitated.

Finally, the report came up. Vader stared at the number for a long while. Her midichlorian count was literally off the charts, a red bar spiking beyond the axis and off the screen. It was immense, but hardly surprising. Vader had already known.

He had known, but he still couldn't explain it. There was only one other who exceeded her natural powers, and that was Vader himself. Where had this girl come from? And how had she gone undetected until now? Her powers were latent, although she likely tapped into them unwittingly when she was in the cockpit. That made her harder to detect. But even so, Vader had a nagging suspicion the Emperor already knew about her and was waiting to see what his apprentice would do now that he had learned of her as well.

What should he do? The correct choice, nay the only choice was to bring her to his master. Vader could not keep secrets from the Emperor. He never had and he never would, for he had no reason to do so. To what end? Vader did not seek to defeat his master, to take his place in custom with the tradition of the Sith. He did not seek power. He had power. He had all the power he could ever want. And even at that, he did not want it at all. He had no wants, no expectations, no aspirations. He served the Emperor. That was his role in the galaxy.

He would bring the girl to his master. And if he decided to train her, so be it. Vader was not afraid of this girl. She was strong, but he was stronger. If the Emperor believed he could replace him with her, he was sorely mistaken. The girl was nothing compared to him. He would crush her like a –

What was this? This name… this didn't belong here. There must be a mistake in the software…

Naberrie, Padmé

Vader's breathing apparatus hitched. He couldn't get any air. His heart was pounding, he felt dizzy. Images, memories, nightmares; they all flashed before his eyes. Long suppressed, never forgotten…

Probability of maternity – 99.997%

That… no, that couldn't be. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be…

"Lord Vader?"

There was another name. A redacted one. Probability of paternity…

Ninety-nine percent.

"My lord?"

Skywalker's child…

Alive.

"My lord, can you hear –"

Vader thrust out a fist. The nuisance was silenced, save for the sound of his choking. He stared at the datapad. It must be a mistake. It must be a trick! A joke! A sick prank!

But it wasn't.

He knew. The moment he arrived on Palaam, he knew. He just hadn't been willing, nor able, to believe. But now with the proof right before him…

He still didn't believe it.

Realizing the man he was strangling wouldn't be able to last much longer, Vader released him. He turned to see Colonel Roth retching on the ground, his blue face slowly regaining color.

"Stand up," Vader demanded.

Roth looked up at him with wide, red eyes. "I… can't…" he rasped. "I can't…"

Vader lifted him into the air with the Force. Roth stood rigidly at attention, not to his own merit, of course.

"The girl," Vader said. "Take me to her. Now."