Chapter Twenty Eight:
As Leia landed her skiff, she looked out the viewport to see both of her parents standing there expectantly. She took a steadying breath, drawing a measure of strength from the plan already formed in her mind. She had talked with Alliance High Command about a general approach, yes, but the details and overall way of doing things was up to the princess.
Leia had chosen to play up her injuries, banking also off of her father's currently bruised ego to help her sell the act of being the subservient and willing-to-please child.
Once the ship was fully on the deck, Leia turned to Artoo. "Stay out of sight until the hangar is clear, then get back to where you're supposed to be, alright?"
Artoo beeped an affirmative and Leia finished the shut-down herself to avoid suspicion. Once that was all done— she could feel her parents' impatience— Leia stood with the help of a crutch. She didn't have a broken leg, thank the Force, but she was stiff, sore and overall weary still from the accident, so the crutch was for general stability.
With slow, measured steps, Leia made her way out of the ship. When she got to the base of the landing ramp, Leia felt her parent's apprehension at her ragged appearance. Soon after, her father's anger could be felt, and Leia steeled herself for the upcoming interrogation.
"What happened to you?" Vader demanded of her as soon as the threesome had met in the middle of the hangar bay.
"And why did you lie to me about what you were doing?" Padmé added, her eyes flashing.
Ignoring her mother for the moment, Leia focused on her father, meeting his gaze with practiced humility and then lowering her gaze guiltily.
"I'm sorry Father... Mother," Leia forced out the second title. "I went on a solo mission. I... had heard of a possibility of a Rebel attack on some supplies and I wanted to help take them down." Leia carefully glanced at Vader, who was standing expectantly with arms crossed. However, at her mention of the Rebellion, his face darkened visibly.
"Why would you do that?" Vader asked disapprovingly.
Leia thinned her lips. "I wanted to prove myself to you, Father. I didn't want Luke's... actions to make you think that I too was going rogue. I went because I thought if I could maybe gather intelligence, or maybe destroy some of them, I could show that I still fight for the Empire... and for you."
Leia glanced away, allowing moisture to build up in her eyes. "I wanted to be useful, to be myself, independent of Luke's choices. But I got injured. Somehow the Rebels caught on to me being there and my ship was hit."
Padmé narrowed suspicious eyes. "How did you get healed?"
Leia met Padmé's gaze without fear. "Someone rescued me from the wreckage."
Vader stepped forward a pace. "Who?"
Leia hesitated, biting her lip. "I... don't know who they were. They never gave me a name, and didn't let me see where I was. I do know it was a human man, and we seemed to be on some sort of ship, but I had no way to tell for sure until I left. I was given a ship to leave in, and they took off after I left the hangar bay."
Leia was doing her utmost to layer her lies with just enough truth to be undetectable to her Force-sensitive father. She hadn't ever gotten the name of her medic, so that much was true, also, in reality she'd had no way to tell if she was on a ship or in a base while confined to medical. So far her tactics seemed to be working, but Leia knew she needed to stay press her advantage now. If she slipped up even a little, her parents would sense her fraudulence.
"Father, please forgive me for faking my mission, and Mother, I didn't want you to stop me. I had to do this for myself." Leia stepped forward now, letting go of her crutch with one hand and touching her father on the arm.
"Please, let me help fight the Alliance. I want to do more than just operate in the shadows." Leia asked fervently. "Let me do more, I can maybe get into their ranks somehow, or find information on them or something... anything to help. Send me out. I'm not as well known as a Shadow so maybe I could do reconnaissance..."
"Enough." Vader interrupted, taking Leia by surprise when he wrapped a supportive arm around his daughter. "No more talk of this now. You need to rest and heal up. We will discuss your possible involvement later."
Leia obediently fell silent, sensing that her father had accepter Leia's story. She knew he still had some doubts, but that was to be expected. "Thank you Father."
She hesitated, glancing around and noticing her brother's ship had reappeared in the hangar. Leia paused, wondering how she'd missed it initially. "Is Luke home?"
Vader glanced at the craft also, his eyes hardening. He knew that Leia would not sense her twin due to the special shield he'd had constructed around the level when it had become apparent that his son might need certain types of... persuasion. "No."
Leia frowned. "Then where'd his ship come from?"
"The Empire recovered it, and returned the vessel to where it belongs," Vader replied shortly, his tone of voice warning Leia to drop the subject.
Leia swallowed her next round of inquiries, knowing better than to step on her father's toes just then. She'd already done that, and she couldn't push the boundaries too far. "Yes Father."
00000
A few days later
He didn't know how long he had been in captivity: the time seemed to merge, to blend and fade in and out with his bouts of consciousness and unconsciousness. The times he was aware, he was too much in pain to care what time of day it was or how long it had been since his latest torture session.
All he knew for certain was that when the door to his cell opened, it meant more pain was forthcoming. The droid brought Luke to his tiny cell after each session of torture, when Luke could handle no more despite the awakening gases the droid used whenever Luke passed out.
Thus when the door to his dark, barren room opened, he managed a slight groan. It couldn't already be time for another round, could it?
He closed his eyes, waiting for the usual harsh handling by the droid, but when nothing touched him, he frowned. Was this a new trick? Were they waiting for him to relax and then strike?
It wasn't as though he had the strength to actually do anything anyway.
He hadn't been fed, although he'd been given just enough water to stay alive, so Luke's stomach was constantly demanding food. But at this point, he was certain that just the sight or smell of food would make him sick.
His cell was also freezing cold, and Luke shivered violently when he was awake— and numb enough to the pain— to notice that detail.
"Hello Luke."
The young man froze... and finally looked up. "M-Mother?" Luke croaked.
Padmé stood in the doorway, eyeing her son with a critical look. Suddenly self-conscious despite his injuries, Luke attempted to cover his groin in some way, causing— to his chagrin— Padmé to snort with morbid humor.
"I changed and clothed you for years," Padmé remarked, coming closer. "You have nothing I haven't seen before, Luke."
Yes, but some privacy would be nice. Luke thought in response to her words. I am not three years old anymore.
His mother was at his side now. She knelt beside him and Luke waited to see what she would do. Padmé reached out a hand to his bloodied and bruised face, touching it lightly. Luke began to lean into her gentle touch, seeking some form of comfort, but Padmé pulled away.
"This doesn't have to be happening, Luke," Padmé told him, looking upon him differently now.
Luke stilled. So she wasn't here to offer a mother's sympathy after all?
"All you have to do to make this stop is say you will listen to Vader." Padmé went on, and Luke began to realize she'd not once called him son. Nor had she referred to Vader as his father.
"I can't..." Luke whispered, pulling away somewhat from her. He no longer felt safe with her, and that cracked his already broken heart.
"Why not?" Padmé asked.
"I can't become like... him." Luke looked away. "I won't become a monster."
Padmé's anger simmered and Luke winced, but did not retract his words. She straightened, and Luke sensed something within her shift. "If that is how you see him, then you would do well to fix your point of view before he does it for you."
A shiver of danger raced the length of Luke's spine, and he turned to gaze at Padmé through blackened eyes. "What does that mean?"
Padmé lifted her head imperiously, her eyebrow arching. "It means the Emperor has the means to... compel you to see reason. He has a supply of Sith poison and is ready to use it if he must."
Luke's eyes widened as much as they could and somehow he found the strength to sit up. "No! No he can't! Please..."
"You want to stop this?" Padmé snapped furiously. "Then submit! Give yourself to your Emperor and all of this will end!"
Luke shook his head, his heart clenching painfully as tears began to fall past his control. "I don't want to be a Sith!"
Padmé sneered down at him. "You would rather be a Jedi, is that it?"
"I just want to be free!" Luke cried. "I don't want to be his servant anymore!"
Padmé actually chuckled, and it did nothing to ease Luke's fears. "If you're not careful, you will become much more than just his servant." She turned to leave. "And if you want any inkling of 'freedom' again, you will bow to your Emperor, or he will make you do it."
"Mother!" Luke called desperately as she left his cell, only to have the droid come in at last.
Padmé paused just a moment and looked at him. There was absolutely no warmth in her brown gaze. "I see no son here, only a sorry excuse for a boy."
And with that she left, causing Luke to cry harder. He didn't resist for once as the droid dragged him to the same torment chamber as always. His mind was elsewhere, and as the droid proceeded with Luke, all he could think of was how he was officially orphaned... and his parents weren't even dead.
With a heavy, shattered heart, Luke watched helplessly as the droid went about its work, eliciting screams of all kinds from its victim.
00000
Mara sat in a tapcaf on the overly hot planet of Tatooine. Well, maybe it wasn't as hot at night as it was during the day, but it wouldn't last. This particular establishment didn't look to be nearly as popular as some of the cantinas that dotted the larger cities with spaceports, but the food was actually rather good, and Mara was glad to have ordered something.
She'd gotten a message from someone to meet her here, and at first Mara had had misgivings, especially when she'd seen just a single name she didn't know: Nella.
But something had told Mara, quite strongly in fact, to not miss this meeting, and so she'd reluctantly come. But she wasn't at ease. She waited tensely for her contact to arrive, grumbling when, after half an hour, the mysterious 'Nella' still hadn't shown up.
Finally Mara threw her hands to the tabletop, paid for her meal and stormed from the building. As she passed an alleyway, however, something moved and Mara instantly dropped into a crouch. With the flick of her wrist, a tiny hold-out blaster dropped into her palm and Mara opened fire into the blackened space.
What she was greeted with was a shriek of something mechanical but decidedly female and a dark shape dodging the red blasts. Mara paused uncertainly, the weapon lowering just a fraction of a degree.
"Who's there?" the red head demanded.
"Don't shoot, please!" the mechanical voice pleaded. "I came to speak with you."
Mara narrowed emerald eyes to slits. "Sure you did. Do you always meet people by sneaking up on them in dark alleys at night?"
The figure before her seemed to hesitate. "I... actually don't have much field experience. Forgive me; I will remember this for next time."
Thoroughly perplexed by now, Mara rose to her feet. "Who are you?"
The other hesitated, but eventually came cautiously out of the shadows. Mara noted a black robe... but no feet. She back-stepped a half-pace, uncertain, but then stared hard into the hood. There was a pair of dimly glowing photoreceptors that she'd not been able to make our earlier.
"A droid?" Mara asked incredulously. "What kind of a game is this?"
The droid lowered its hood and hovered closer to Mara. "All I ask is that you hear me out."
Mara placed a hand to her hip, ready to deny the mechanic, but something stopped her. "Why should I?"
"Because I come in behalf of someone else."
The droid uncovered itself fully and despite herself, Mara was impressed at the level of craftsmanship of this droid. It looked like it had been pieced together, but only because Mara's eye was trained to find such detail. Whoever had built this thing was a mechanical genius.
"Who are you?" Mara asked again, a little softer this time.
"I am Nella," the droid replied. "And my master needs your help."
(P.S: Dear Stregian: I hear your concerns, and thank you for them; reviews like yours help me keep on target with my character development and such. Rest assured that it's all part of the plan ;) )
