Darth Vader stood back, watching the droid approach the boy. She could feel his fear, a sharp slice of darkness that contrasted with his brilliant presence in the Force. The prince's raw talent would have made him a candidate for the Jedi Order in the old days. If he was much younger, of course.
He lifted his chin, his hands clenched at his sides and defiance in his eyes, and she knew he would never give up the location of the Rebel base. This interrogation was a waste of time. She had a sudden insane desire to call off the droid, and the fingers of her flesh hand curled into a fist.
As if he sensed her conflict, the boy looked up, and their eyes locked. There was something about his eyes... A rush of memories surged through her, leaving her breathless.
Brown eyes she could have drowned in… clear, musical laughter. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. I've never heard of angels."
A home full of love and laughter, and a dark-haired girl who grinned as if sharing a secret. "Do you know, Anneke, you're the first girlfriend my brother's ever brought home?"
His lips on hers, soft and warm, igniting a fire within her that had never faded. "We don't know what tomorrow may bring, Anni. But I know I want to face it with you."
The breath returned to her lungs in a sharp gasp. She stopped the droid with a curt gesture, and stared at those eyes, Padraig's eyes. How was this possible? Granted, she knew little of the Andelko family, had not seen any of them since that time on Naboo; it was within the realm of possibility that somewhere along the way they had intermarried with the Organas. She seemed to recall that Padraig had been very good friends with Senator Bail Organa.
And yet, Obi Wan had also counted Bail Organa among his friends. Was this why she had never been able to find any trace of the children he had stolen from her? Had he hidden them under her very nose in the Organa household? But no—the Organas had only the one child, and she had never known Obi Wan to be so devious; he had always been honest to a fault. And, surely, if this was her son, she would have sensed it before now. Her children had lived inside her for nearly eight months, and their presence in the Force had been almost as familiar as her own, but... it had been sixteen years since she had felt their Force signatures—how much might they have changed in that time?
And what if Obi Wan had separated them, giving only one to Bail? She crushed the recorder in the corner of the cell in a fist of Force energy. If Tarkin saw her hesitation here, he would certainly go directly to Palpatine, and there were too many lies and broken promises between master and apprentice for her to trust the Emperor with this.
A tiny spark of hope flickered to life within her, shining bravely against the deep darkness in her soul, and she switched the droid off. The prince's eyes were brimming with questions, but he said nothing. There were so many things she wanted to say, yet she kept silent as well; he was a Rebel—in his eyes, she was the enemy, and until she knew for sure who he was, she had to see him that way too.
Without another word, Vader left the boy's cell, her boots ringing on the deckplates as she strode toward Tarkin's office. The Grand Moff would not be pleased that she had gotten no information from the young prince. Reporting to him grated on her—she was the Emperor's apprentice, and should answer to nobody but Palpatine. However, her master had given Tarkin command over the Death Star since it was the Grand Moff's pet project, and everyone on board was under his authority. She itched to get back on her own ship and off this overpowered, unwieldy monstrosity.
Sweeping into Tarkin's office unannounced, she smiled tightly at his obvious annoyance at her rudeness. With her hood up, he couldn't see her expressions, but she could read him easily: he wanted to reprimand her, but he feared her too much to say anything. Good.
"He won't talk," she said, her voice flat.
Tarkin leaned back in his chair, and glared at her through narrowed eyes, clearly waiting for further explanation, but she stayed silent, waiting him out. Finally, he said, "Well. Perhaps he would respond to an alternative form of persuasion. Have him brought to the control room. I think it is time we demonstrate the full power of this station."