Chapter One: The Deal

I woke with a start at the insistent pounding on my door.

"Princess!" called a voice I recognized as the captain's. "Princess, we are under attack! You must get up!"

I immediately rose to my feet, only to have my vision black out from standing up too fast. I've been doing that for longer than I can remember, yet I can never remember to take things slowly. I sat down on the edge of the bunk again.

When the dizziness faded, I made my way to the door. The captain was outside, shifting from foot to foot with impatience – or panic. "Who?" I asked him shortly.

"The Devastator, Your Highness."

Darth Vader's current flagship. I set my jaw. I did fear the monster, but not nearly so much as I should. I had talked to him several times since our first meeting over two years ago, and I had always found myself in a stimulating conversation. Even as I despised him for his means, I had to admire him for his dedication.

But now I was in a compromising position. I had never given Vader any reason to suspect me of being a member of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, and he wasn't stupid, but I was treading on dangerous ground. If he was even in the least bit surprised to find me a traitor to the Empire, this could be the last hour I lived.

At that moment, the alarm bells began to ring shrilly. "They've breeched the door," Captain Antilles muttered anxiously. "Princess, you must abandon ship."

I ignored him. "Secure the cockpit." He hesitated, and though I was touched at his concern, the last thing I needed was a nursemaid. "That's an order, Captain."

He nodded tightly, looking unhappy, and dashed from my side. I took a deep breath, and headed in the other direction, from which I could distinctly hear the shrill voice of my protocol droid and the incessant beeps of my astromech.

Time for Plan B.


Hidden behind a corner, I waited for R2-D2's blue and white dome to swivel in my direction before crooking my index finger at him. The loyal little droid discreetly left his companion's side and came to me.

"Artoo," I whispered. "I need to record a message for Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's on Tatooine, the planet below us right now. As soon as I'm done, you need to use an escape pod and get down there to him. Understand?"

He (for some reason, I can never think of any of my droids as an it) beeped an affirmative, and I entered a datachip with my authorization code into Artoo's mainframe. I remember, when my father first gave Artoo to me, how I had thought it odd that an astromech would need an authorization, but Papa had said that Artoo had served in the Clone Wars, and that it seemed reasonable, in an effort to prevent sabotage to the ships due to their own droids being reprogrammed by a spy. Yet to this day I've never seen another droid with the same program, and I've seen a fair few that sure looked like they were from the Clone Wars.

The recording light clicked on, and I recorded a quick message for the Jedi general. I had never met him – Papa claimed that he isolated himself on Tatooine out of grief over what happened to the Jedi Order. But he told me to contact him if I ever needed a favour, and this definitely constituted asa favour.

C-3PO's shrill metallic voice rang out just as I was finishing, and I pulled my authorization chip out of Artoo before allowing him to go with his counterpart. With any luck, Threepio would follow Artoo's lead and get off the ship. Threepio has his uses, but being able to deal with a crisis is not one of them.

Then I pulled out my blaster – just in case – and set about finding an escape pod of my own.


The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, hands bound in front of me, staring down several heavy-duty blasters.

"You're the ambassador?" a mechanized voice asked.

I blinked, clearing my vision, and the white blur above me formed itself into four stormtroopers. "Yes," I snapped with as much dignity as I could muster. "Untie me at once!"

Predictably, they ignored my order and pulled me to my feet. "Lord Vader would like to speak with you, Ambassador."

Of course he did. "Then I suppose it is fortunate I also wish to speak with him, is it not?" I huffed, and allowed them to pull me down the hall.

As we grew closer to the sounds of conflict, my stomach plummeted to my feet, and my heart jumped to my throat. Please, I begged the ever-elusive Force, please don't let me die.

I immediately marched up to the Dark Lord and began to verbally pound him. If I was going out, it'd be with a fight.

"Lord Vader, I should have known. Only you would be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit for this. When they find out you've attacked a diplomatic --"

"Don't play games with me, Your Highness," he retorted, and damn him, I couldn't find any hint of emotion in his mechanical voice. I had no idea just how angry he was. "You weren't on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted system. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

Well, at least he didn't threaten me . . . directly. I decided to play stupid. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan." I winced, certain he was so not going to fall for it.

But he surprised me, ducking around my cover story with ease. "You're a part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor. Take her away!"

One of the stormtroopers pushed me, and I decide to walk rather than be tossed over some guy's shoulder and carried out like a stubborn child. I didn't even glance over my shoulder, because I knew Vader's attention was already elsewhere.


I had no idea how much time had passed by the time Vader showed up again. I had been shuttled onto a space station I could only assume was the Death Star, which gave me the shivers. I had peeked at those plans; they were terrifying.

I had been sitting in the cell for what seemed like days by the time Vader walked in, an interrogation droid at his side, and I was so thoroughly sick of white that I was actually happy to see him, despite his threatening greeting – until I got a good look at the needle that the droid was aiming at me.

And then Vader said something.

It wasn't in Basic, and I had no idea what it would mean, but it stopped the droid in its tracks. I had never known an interrogation droid to shut down on command before. They were like rabid nexus when activated; uncontrollable.

"It means go in Atrisian." His harsh voice echoed around the cell, and I jerked my eyes from the droid to his shining mask. "It is meant to be ironic. It will stop any Imperial interrogation droid in its tracks."

I blinked. "Okay."

He crouched beside me, so that I actually had to look down into his face – mask. It was altogether very disconcerting. "Do you understand?" he asked softly.

"Say it again?" I asked timidly.

He repeated the word.

I nodded. "I think I've got it." I said it back to him, and he inclined his head.

"Good." He stood.

I glanced between him and the droid again. "So . . . any particular reason you told me this?"

"Yes."

I looked back to him expectantly. When he didn't elaborate, I added, "And it is?"

"I want your help."

"My . . . my help? With what?" I couldn't imagine anything he'd need my help for. He'd always seemed so self-sufficient.

"I want you to help me kill the Emperor."

I was so glad I was sitting down. "What!"

His voice dropped. "I want you to ensure that somehow, the Emperor dies during this Rebellion of yours."

I gaped for several seconds before finding my voice again. This was the last thing I'd expected to hear. I'd've been less shocked if he'd asked my to shoot him. "Why?"

"I have my reasons."

His tone was decidedly clipped, and I dropped that line of questioning. "How exactly to you foresee this happening?"

Vader's head tilted to the side, as if in thought. "I do not expect you to actually kill him, Princess. I will do that. I merely request that you give me the opportunity to do so."

"So what exactly are you proposing?" I asked carefully.

"A truce. You help me manipulate this war into a scenario that will end the Emperor's life, and I will make certain that your Rebellion survives to see him fall."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I will keep the Empire as far from your back as I realistically can," he clarified.

I nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all, It seemed so surreal. "Okay. Okay. And what happens when he's dead? We go back to trying to blast each other out of existence?"

"I'm sure we could work something out after some . . . aggressive negotiations."

Just then, his comlink beeped. He glanced at the number. "I must take this. Have you made a decision?"

I couldn't think, so I went with my gut feeling. "Yes. Yes, I'll help you."

"Excellent." He made to leave, and I jumped to my feet.

"Wait!"

He turned, comlink beeping insistently in his hand. "Yes?"

"What do I do now? How do I get back to the Alliance?""

"I'll tell you when I know."

And the door slid shut behind him.