By Leela Starsky.
CHAPTER FOUR.
Leia watched as the door to her prison slid aside but she didn't move. She knew she should get out of bed at least; for all she knew it could be Vader walking in, but she simply didn't care. Feeling completely wretched, Leia was indulging herself while she couldn't do anything else and wallowing in an uncharacteristic level of self-pity. She couldn't remember ever feeling so ill, so continuously nauseous. She'd felt nauseous many times before but usually, as soon as she vomited, the nausea passed. She had already vomited twice since waking yet still the nausea besieged her.
At first she'd explained it away as a nervous reaction to the trauma of the last few days, but the horribly consistent and unrelenting nature of the nausea suggested otherwise. The idea that they might be slowly poisoning her had crossed her mind, but the fact that she hadn't been able to keep down any of the food they'd given her helped her dismiss it. When she really thought about it, Leia suspected the nausea was hormonal; her body's reaction to having been pregnant but, as that was no longer an issue,she wondered how long it would take to pass.
She recognised the medic who stepped into her room as the same one she'd seen in the medcentre, just before they'd knocked her out to perform 'the procedure' on her - the procedure that had taken her child - and surmised that he had performed it. The thought fanned the embers of anger still glowing in the depths of her self-pity, but was it was quickly overwhelmed by profound sadness.
Leia closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to force down the tears that seemed so ready to flow at the slightest provocation. Insteadshe summoned her control from the place to which it had retreated, opened her eyes and watched coldly as the medic closed the door behind him.
He was accompanied by a 2-1B med-droid, and she wasn't sure whether she should be alarmed by its presence or not. Droids of that series housed a sentient brain, usually human, and usually from a lifeform that had suffered a physical catastrophe that had left only their brains functioning. With a choice of either death or life in a droid body, many chose the artificial support. Unfortunately, the enormous cost of the transfer tended to leave them deeply indebted to the government. A cost they were forced to work off in a sly form of slavery.
The Rebel Alliance had two such droid-people working within its ranks, both doctors and both exceedingly grateful to be free of the Empire. And while Leia knew such people to be quite brilliant, she was still very conscious that this droid-person was Imperial and therefore not to be trusted.
"I have been sent to examine you," the medic told her as he approached the bed.
Why? Leia wondered, but couldn't summon the energy to voice it. They had what they wanted, why were they even keeping her alive?
Public execution, the cynical part of her brain told her. They want to make an example of you.
Leia closed her eyes as the medic uncovered her and the 2-1B droid-person started to scan her. She was still lying on her side, curled into a vaguely foetal position, and wondered if they would even notice if she ignored them.
"She is seriously dehydrated," she heard the 2-1B say, and thought bitterly, Happens when you spend your days vomiting. Leia knew she was under surveillance; they had to be aware how ill she'd been.
"I recommend a fluid drip," the 2-1B said.
"Standard infuser," the medic agreed, then added, "Give it your arm, Princess."
Leia opened her eyes, surprised to be directly addressed and that he seemed to know who she was. She considered not cooperating. There would be an element of satisfaction in making this difficult for them but, as they would simply sedate her and do it anyway, Leia offered them her left arm and watched as the 2-1B proceeded to attach the infuser.
"Why am I vomiting?" she ventured to ask, aware that the dryness of her throat was making her voice croak.
"Hormonal," was the flat answer from the medic.
Leia held her temper in check and tried to sound reasonable as she asked, "Well, how long before it stops?"
"The standard is ten weeks," he replied, frowning at the scanner in his hand.
"Ten weeks?" Leia was horrified. Ten weeks with this level of nausea would kill her.
The 2-1B had finished attaching the infuser and she moved her arm, accustoming herself to the weight. She started to sit up and the medic said flatly, "Remove your underwear. I need to examine you."
"Why?" Leia pulled away from him, revulsion colouring her words. "Think you might have botched the job?"
"You're still bleeding," the medic said, and did not sound pleased with the fact. "Complete genetic testing poses a risk for the embryo."
"Well that's hardly my concern any more, is it?" Leia spat. "Tell me, is the Emperor enjoying his new plaything?"
The medic frowned at her and Leia turned away from him.
"Go away," she said sadly.
"I need to examine you," he repeated.
"Or what?" she said sharply. "Vader'll strangle you?"
"Perhaps," the medic admitted.
"Why should I care?" she demanded. "You don't care about me."
"Lord Vader charged me with your well being, Princess. He will be displeased if my inattention results in the loss of your pregnancy."
"He has the pregnancy!" Leia shrieked, leaping off the bed. "Safe in a tank for the Emperor!" she sobbed. The imagery in her head brought her nausea to the fore once again and she muttered, "Goddess, I'm going to be sick…"
She fled to the 'fresher and was dimly aware of the medic following her, watching her as she retched helplessly over the sani. But, as there was nothing in her stomach, she barely managed to bring up a spit of bile. When the spasms finally stopped, Leia washed her face and rinsed her mouth, catching her reflection in the mirror over the basin. A shadow of herself looked back at her. Ignoring the obviously ill woman in the mirror, Leia turned to face the medic.
He held up the small scanner and indicated a screen and readout far too small for her to see at this distance.
"You are still pregnant, Princess."
Leia felt the blood drain from her face and had to hold on to the basin beside her.
"What?" she said.
"You are carrying a perfectly formed, five- week-old, female embryo."
"What?" Leia couldn't begin to sort out the mess her thoughts had become.
"But there is still a chance you could lose the pregnancy," the medic said. "The bleeding should have stopped by now."
Leia dimly felt her legs give way and braced herself against the wall, sliding down it to sit in an ungainly heap on the floor. Pregnant?
The medic approached her and started to help her up, but Leia slapped him away.
"Get away from me!"
"Princess, please let me examine you-"
Leia fought off the rising bile in her throat as she lurched to her feet. "Don't touch me!" she spat.
"I need to check that your cervix is properly sealed," the medic responded. "Or you may well miscarry the embryo this afternoon. Please remove your underwear then come to the bed." He walked out of the 'fresher and closed the door behind him.
Leia stared at the door for a long moment, then proceeded to do as he had requested. There was only a little blood, which she took as a good sign. Numbly, she returned to the main room and, without looking at the medic or the 2-1B, lay on the bed.
The medic proceeded to examine her and she closed her eyes.
Pregnant. She had barely come to terms with losing the child and now she was pregnant again. And it was female.
Han's daughter.
"How effective is chemical sterilisation?" Leia asked quietly.
"Depends how long it's been taken for," the medic answered.
"After ten years?"
"One hundred percent."
Then how? Leia wondered. He lied, the horrible voice told her. But Leia couldn't believe that of Han, despite the evidence to the contrary. Somehow she and Han had made a little girl. A little girl that the Emperor wanted.
The medic finished his examination and Leia sighed and sat up, rearranging her nightdress to cover herself.
"There is some cervical erosion," he told her. "But it should settle down. Your cervix seems perfectly healthy." He stood and added, "Stress is a major factor in spontaneous abortion."
Leia regarded the man arrogantly and said, "Being imprisoned and thinking a baby has been ripped out of your body against your will is very stressful."
The medic eyed her for a moment then told her, "Rest as much as you can." He returned his tools to the 2-1B. "The two-one-bee will be back in two hours to change the infuser."
"Wait," Leia said, and started to follow them as they headed for the door. "What about the nausea?"
"Ten weeks is usual," the medic repeated, opening the door. "I estimate you have another five weeks."
"But-"
The door closed and Leia was alone again. Left standing impotently in the middle of the small room, her head a mess of questions. Unconsciously she rested her hands over her belly then, as she realised what she was doing, looked at them. Five weeks.
Five weeks ago she'd been menstruating, struggling to deny the cascade of emotions Han Solo awoke in her. Five weeks ago she had been a rebel leader. Strong, efficient, a respected commander. A virgin princess. Confident in her abilities and her standing among her peers.
Now she was none of those. Princess Leia had changed irrevocably and she did not know how to be the person she had become. The addition of 'lover' to her list of qualifications had been an easy and welcome one, but mother was not one she was prepared for. She knew nothing about pregnancy or babies.
Five weeks.
A wave of nausea washed through her and she sat on the edge of her bed. For the embryo to be that old… Leia swallowed. She would have ovulated a few days after they started sleeping together; and, taking into consideration the time it would have taken for Han's genetic material to meet and bond with hers… Leia sighed and wiped a hand across her face. They could well have set off the biological chain of events that created the child almost the first time they'd made love.
The memory of their first time was so clear… as was her decision at the time to ignore the possibility of pregnancy. Leia had been fully aware of the ramifications, yet had decided lovemaking with Han was worth the risk. The fact that he'd assured her he was chemically sterile afterwards was beside the point. She had known the possible consequences before they'd started, but had decided to play anyway. Now, as far as she was concerned, the pregnancy was her responsibility and she no longer felt any resentment towards Han for it.
The Emperor wanting the child was a bizarre development; one that terrified her completely. And while she had thought they were taking the child from her, Leia had felt fiercely protective of it. Now she found herself seriously considering finding a way to terminate it. But could she throw away a Goddess given child? Han's child? When Han could well be dead…
Leia groaned and lay back on the bed.
Would Vader come for her? Or Palpatine himself?
….
Luke emerged from a deep healing trance and took a moment to orient himself. Vader had moved him from the medcentre and into private quarters a week ago. Private quarters that were a vast improvement on the cell he'd started his time on the Executor in, but which were no less a cell.
His new cybernetic hand was interfacing with his own body remarkably well and surprisingly quickly. He already had full use of it and, despite an occasional deep ache at the interface site and some itching where his own skin was learning to live with the synthflesh, had suffered no pain. The techniques his father had taught him were a revelation too. In the respect that not everything Vader did was Dark. Yet Luke sensed there was a limit to Vader's healing abilities, probably due to the Dark Side of the Force. Vader himself had seemed surprised at how quickly his son was recovering: particularly that most of the damage Luke had suffered on Bespin was healed.
The physical damage anyway.
Luke wasn't sure how to judge the emotional damage. Something of this magnitude was never really 'gotten over'. It was simply something you learned to live with. Like Leia had with Alderaan.
But the lies, the betrayal… Why Yoda and Kenobi had perpetrated such a thing was quite beyond Luke's ability to comprehend andto some extent he could understand Vader's deep-seated bitterness towards them; Yoda and Kenobi had robbed Vader of his family.
For a moment Luke wondered what it would have been like to grow up with his mother and father and little sister, and felt a deep sense of loss. Of what might have been. And was further saddened by the understanding that it had been taken away by Vader, not the Jedi. It had been his father's choice.
Whether it was because of his recent trance state or his general sense of calm, Luke found himself experiencing what he thought at first was a vision, then quickly realised was in fact a Force enhanced memory. Felt a deep, overwhelming terror as the child he had been was held forcefully under the water in his own bath. Felt himself struggle and drown.
Removed from his two-year-old body, Luke recognised his mother as she rushed into the room; felt her overwhelming distress. And the unreasoning fear and hatred towards him from the perpetrator: a female whom he felt certain was not a Jedi.
Then, as if from a long way away, he sensed a blast of dark energy, which he instinctively knew had killed the perpetrator. It called to him, that dark energy, but was far too terrifying to approach. Luke felt it search for him, hunt, and felt himself flee. Then a soft, familiar warmth called to him and he ran towards it. Felt himself ablaze with healing Force energy.
His mother.
Luke took a gasping breath as his two-year-old self did, felt the small child's fright and confusion, yet was able to remain slightly detached. The terrifying darkness he had felt had taken form and was looming over him. Vader. Luke opened his eyes and the memory faded. The Jedi had done this? It just didn't make sense. And if they had, why had his mother trusted them afterwards?
…
Vader was remembering the feel of that warm, healing energy too. The last intimate touch he'd felt from his wife. The one that had saved his life. Kenobi had left him for dead; had not seen the figure that had once been his apprentice crawl out of the fiery pit into which he had fallen. Had assumed his misguided padawan to be dead.
Maimed and mortally wounded by his Master, Anakin Skywalker had used the seemingly limitless power of the Dark Side of the Force to shield himself from the heat and lava. Had pushed it away from him as he fell and changed the angle of his fall so that he would land on the side of the pit rather than in its molten heart. But the combination of noxious gas, a lightsabre wound to the head that had literally scalped him, and a lung ruined in Kenobi's attempt to pierce his heart with his lightsabre had caused Skywalker to lose consciousness briefly, and his mere proximity to the lava had threatened to immolate him. His clothes had ignited immediately, and Vader remembered feeling his skin blister and blacken as he struggled to pull himself far enough away from the horrendous temperatures, his almost useless remaining lung hopelessly trying to wring what little oxygen it could from the sulphurous air.
A baptism of fire. And the man who had come out was not the same man who had fallen in. But his wife hadn't known that. Hadn't realised that her husband had died and that what was left of the man she had found in the Emperor's personal medcentre was something dark and terrible.
Directly disobeying the Jedi, Padme had attempted to heal what was left of her husband with the Force. Had risked her own life to save his. Taking his pain into herself. Healing the mortal wound in his chest, saving his eyes. Vader could still hear her screams… Screams that had intensified when she was discovered by the Jedi and dragged away from her purpose.
Vader had heard later that it had taken her weeks to recover, and it shocked him to realise that she must have been pregnant through all of that. Pregnant from an intimacy, which had occurred only days prior, that he remembered as being purely selfish on his part. An intimacy he had taken for granted and, as that form of physical release was now denied to him, a selfishness he had lived to regret.
Memories of loving Padme were something Vader had pushed to the darkest depths of what was left of his soul. Funny that they should come flooding out now. And irritating.
He could look back and see that the crack in the dam against his memories had started during his interrogation of the princess on the Death Star and hadculminated as he felt her Force-bonding with her Corellian lover on Bespin. The look of fear and uncertainty on Leia Organa's face when he had told her that Force-bonding was a form of coercion had left the dark side of his nature rejoicing. But it was the discovery that Leia Organa was his daughter that had ruptured the breach completely, and now the memories were cascading through his brain in a relentless torrent.
Thinking about the many Force-bondings he had shared with Padme filled him with a mixture of guilt and longing. Guilt because, despite his arrogant belief to the contrary at the time, Vader was quite sure that the young Anakin Skywalker had coerced the woman of his dreams.
He had been infatuated by her since the day she had walked into Watto's repair shop on Tatooine, but a genuine respect and deep friendship had developed between them over the years as they each pursued their careers.
Then she was betrothed to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. A political marriage of sovereignty to secure the safety of Naboo. It had saddened Anakin but, as a Jedi, it was not like he could offer her any other option. They were close enough friends that Padme could confide in him and he had felt secure enough to tease her. Until he had realised how much she was dreading the marriage.
Then the attempts on her life had started and, knowing of their long friendship and claiming that Anakin was the only man he could trust with his wife-to-be, the head of the Republic had insisted upon Skywalker as her Jedi protector. The Jedi council had encouraged him to take someone older; a full Jedi knight rather than a padawan, anyone other than Anakin, but Palpatine had been adamant. He wanted his wife-to-be to feel comfortable with her protector.
So charged, Anakin had travelled with Padme to her homeworld of Naboo, had met her family, and had spent several carefree days on her special island retreat. A secluded dream world in which their long friendship had flourished into something more. Something forbidden for both of them.
When Padme had come to him that night, it was out of concern for his distress over the recurrent nightmares about his mother. She had not intended to stay, he knew. But his need for comfort had kept her by his side, and making love had seemed such a simple and natural progression.
It was his first time; he did not know if it was hers. And insecurity about his own performance had triggered the Force-bonding. He had loved her so strongly, so deeply, it was something he could not have prevented if he'd wanted to and, after that, she had loved him just as deeply. Something that would have him thrown out of the Order. Something that could well mean the ruination of her world if Palpatine reneged on his deal to protect her resource rich world from the greedy Trade Federation.
It was Padme who had suggested the next morning that the dreams of his mother were visions rather than nightmares. Padme who had insisted they go to Tatooine. But they had both agreed that what had happened between them could never happen again, and had stayed true to their vow all the way to Anakin's former home. And, even though the thought of Padme becoming Palpatine's wife was eating him up inside, Anakin had remained resolute.
Then he had found his mother beaten and tortured, almost to death, in a Tusken Raider camp. She had died in his arms and the savagery and the senselessness of her death had filled him with pure, cold hatred. Hatred that he poured out upon the Tuskens in a Dark Side wrath. The power he had felt was glorious. Glorious and terrible. And while he had later felt remorse for his actions, it did not diminish the hatred. Or his anger towards Kenobi for insisting his visions had been nothing more than bad dreams.
Whether he and Padme slept together or not no longer seemed to matter. It was a surcease she offered and he took. Even after they had returned to Coruscant. Looking back, Vader suspected Palpatine had been well aware of what was going on between his two favourites; had quite possibly orchestrated the whole thing. Without Anakin's devotion to Padme, Palpatine would not have been able to turn the young padawan against the Jedi. And having him remain close to Padme had kept him close to Palpatine as well. All the better for manipulating…
Anakin Skywalker had been so arrogantly confident in using his Force ability to mask his relationship with Padme, it had never occurred to him that there might have been someone assisting him. Of course, with the clarity of hindsight, Vader could see his arrogance at the time for what it was.
It was Palpatine himself who had broken the subterfuge by setting a date for his marriage to the senator from Naboo. Unable to bare the thought of Padme trapped in a loveless marriage, Anakin had begged her to marry him. Duty-bound to the safety of her people, Padme had refused.
So, with all the selfishness and lack of forethought typical for a man barely out of his teens, Anakin had used the Force to nullify Padme's contraception and within a month had her pregnant.
Devastated, as well as terrified by the ramifications, the young woman had fruitlessly tried to find out how such a failure could have happened, but the medics were unable to help her. Anakin, confident in the knowledge that her upbringing and personal reverence for life would not allow her to terminate the pregnancy, was nothing but supportive. He loved Padme desperately. He wanted her to marry him and have their child.
How Kenobi had found out, Vader didn't know, but he could still feel his former master's fury as well as his own immediate response of shame, swiftly followed by righteous outrage. Then had come his dressing-down from the Jedi Council. The Jedi hadn't known quite what to do with their unpredictable star pupil who had done something so dreadfully bad. And then the Emperor had found out.
Palpatine had feigned insult and outrage and used both as an excuse to lash out at the Jedi. Believing her lover's life to be in danger, Padme had forced Anakin to flee Coruscant, taking him with her back to Naboo. But word had reached there before they did, and it was only the intervention of the current Queen that saved them from being lynched by an understandably angry populace on arrival. A world that envisaged Palpatine withdrawing his promises of security from the ravages of the Trade Federation; their hopes and dreams turned to ashes at the whim of boy.
Once again they fled, and Padme had finally agreed to marry him. The Jedi were not happy, but soon they were all too busy dealing with the swiftly degenerating galactic political situation to care. Something Vader could see in hindsight as being orchestrated by his new Master.
Palpatine had stepped up from the chaos of the foundering Republic and declared himself the head of a new Empire. And, to the horror of his wife and the Jedi, Anakin Skywalker had been an avid supporter. Tired of politicians and the time and resource wasting bureaucracy, Anakin saw in Palpatine's new order a way of getting things done. Of seeing achievement.
The birth of his son had fortified Anakin's need for order and a safe environment. If some civil freedoms had to be sacrificed to reach that order, so be it. He had genuinely loved his son and his wife.
But Palpatine was prepared to feed Anakin's thirst for knowledge in a way that the Jedi weren't, and had subtly replaced Kenobi as his guide and mentor. Through Palpatine's eyes Anakin saw the Jedi as little more than an interfering, old-fashioned cult who seemed hell-bent on stopping him from reaching his full potential. Potential that was realised when Kenobi had tried to kill him.
On Tatooine, full of grief after his mother's murder, Anakin had sworn to Padme that he would become strong enough to defeat death. And he had. Despite the pain, despite the cybernetic body parts needed to replace those he had lost and the life-support suit required for the simple act of breathing, Anakin Skywalker had defeated death.
Filled with the Dark Side, Darth Vader had emerged from what was left of Skywalker, great and terrible. Then, when the Jedi had tried to take the life of his son for fear he would walk the same dark path as his father, they had created the method of their own destruction. No longer constrained by emotional ties after his wife and son had left, Vader had become even more powerful as a result. Certainly powerful enough to hunt down and destroy what was left of the Jedi. Yet never quite powerful enough to free himself of the respirator.
Now his Master was intending a more refined version of Vader's feat. Planning to cheat death by shifting his consciousness into the body of another sentient being. He had prepared several clones for this purpose but the forced growth of clones had always made them unstable. A solution to this problem had now presented in the form of an embryonic being who contained not only the genes of the extremely powerful Skywalker line, but the solid strength and stability of the Corellian Jedi as well.
Destined to be extraordinarily powerful, as far as Palpatine was concerned the child was a gift from the gods. Not that the Emperor believed in any. Vader on the other hand saw Palpatine's plan as a distinct threat. He was also surprised by how protective he was feeling of his own offspring. He did not want Luke or Leia killed, and he most certainly did not want his granddaughter possessed.
Watching the princess now on the screen in front of him, from the security and helmetless comfort of his private quarters, Vader found himself looking at the young woman with new eyes. A new perspective. He had respected her as a senator, perhaps because she reminded him so much of her mother, but now he felt a desire to get to know his daughter. Although he knew that any such approach would be met with dark rage. A trait she had inherited from him. Rage that would alert the Emperor to the distinct threat she implied. Rage that would see her terminated.
No, much as it sickened him to admit, Vader knew he would have to let them go. There was too much at risk to do otherwise. The repercussions for himself could be dire; Palpatine would not be happy. But, with some subtle training, Luke could be given the skills to walk himself and the princess off the Executor. Vader would make sure the Millennium Falcon was within reach...
…
With little to occupy her but regular visits to the sani to either pee or vomit, Leia was ready to rip Vader's head off and almost hoping for execution. She had heard that human women suffered nausea in the early part of pregnancy – morning sickness – but this was an all day and night form of suffering. So relentless and debilitating that Leia was starting to consider death a viable option.
Unable to keep food down at all, she was still on a drip, and spent her time taking out her boredom and frustration on her only visitors – the 2-1B and, occasionally, the medic. The 2-1B had surprised her a week ago by directly disobeying the medic in charge and furnishing her with a notebook loaded with information about human pregnancy. Information Leia had accepted with trepidation but devoured voraciously. Information that assured her that, at six weeks gestation, having to pee every fifteen minutes was normal. That her enlarged and aching breasts were normal. That nausea and vomiting were normal.
Leia couldn't help wondering if her desire to hit Han in the groin with the notepad was normal?
But boredom and depression soon took their toll. Were they going to keep her here for the entire pregnancy? The prospect was enough to make her consider trying to damage the seal around the transparisteel window. Nothing like a little hull breach to stir things up.
No one would tell her what had happened to Luke, and the thought of him teaming up with Vader and the Emperor chilled her to the bone. It would bring the Rebellion to a swift and messy end, she felt sure.
And what about Han? Her every waking moment was consumed with worry for him. She had to assume that Fett had delivered him to the Hutt by now, but what was the Hutt doing to him? Had he been revived? Was he brain-damaged? What if he couldn't even remember her?
A thick, almost familiar blanket of depression enveloped Leia and she curled into a foetal ball. Her soul wanted to weep; her whole body ached with the need to grieve, but she would not let it. The grief was too great, and Leia knew that once she started it would be a long time before she would be able to stop.
She heard the door to her room hiss open and didn't bother to open her eyes, expecting it to be the medic or 2-1B. But the all too familiar rasping sound of Vader's respirator sent a surge of adrenaline through her system that almost had her leaping out of the bed. Leia clutched the bedclothes to her chest, scavenging what dignity she could, and hoped she wouldn't throw up in front of him.
"I am not here to harm you," Vader said as the door closed behind him.
Vader's new introductory mantra, Leia thought sarcastically and snapped, "I don't think you could hurt me more than you already have."
He seemed to regard her for a moment then, with his hands clasped casually behind his back, the Dark Lord moved to stand in front of the narrow viewport and gazed out.
Leia couldn't help thinking facetiously, Surely the view is better from his own cabin? Then a wave of nausea swept over her, tempering her quick wit and leaving her wishing he would simply hurry up and get on with whatever he had come to do.
"How well do you remember your mother, Leia Organa?"
His question triggered emotional needs and responses that had been exacerbated by her pregnancy; a longing for her mother that she hadn't felt in years. Deeply disturbed, Leia scowled defensively.
"Not well enough," she replied, her tone implying that she believed her mother's death was Vader's fault and challenging him to dispute it.
"Do you love the Corellian?" the deep voice asked.
Leia frowned at the black figure, wondering what the hell his agenda might be. She refused to dignify his question with an answer. Vader knew exactly how she felt about Solo. He'd been there at the carbonite pit…
Tears welled in her eyes and she bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Then he turned and looked at her.
"He has made it impossible for me to train you at this time," Vader said. "Nevertheless, Princess, I will come for you."
Without another word, he left the room, leaving Leia staring at the closed door trying to translate the meaning behind his words. Train her? Train her as what? Then suddenly it came to her: a Sith Lord. Vader was planning to make her his apprentice. A deep-seated fear blossomed within Leia. Fear for herself and for her unborn daughter. All this time she had been worried for Luke when she should have been worrying for herself...
He has made it impossible for me to train you.
He who? The Emperor? Because she was pregnant and he wanted the child? Or because-
Do you love the Corellian?
Han...
He has made it impossible for me to train you.
Leia hugged herself as comprehension sunk in. Solo had got her pregnant and because of that Vader could not teach her. And, because of his desire to have the child, the Emperor would not hurt her. Solo had taken on the role of her protector almost from the moment they had met. And now, despite the fact that he was locked in a solid block of carbonite somewhere, Solo was still protecting her.
Once again Leia curled into a ball, wrapping herself around the seed of protection that Solo had planted in her; loving the growing child with fierce passion and missing Han desperately.
….
When Luke stepped into her room unannounced, Leia didn't think she could feel more shocked or devastated. He was dressed all in black, washed and clean-shaven, and she knew without a doubt that he had not just stepped out of a cell. Which could only mean…
He had turned.
He even looked like Vader, all in black, and there was a new lightsabre hanging from his belt.
"Leia?" Luke was shocked to find the princess huddled in her bed. Shock that was swiftly replaced by fear for her health. "Are you alright?" He reached for her and she flinched away. He held his hands up, palms open towards her in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. "Leia, it's me."
She was staring at his hand. His new hand. And suddenly Luke realised how he must look to her. The last time she'd seen him was with the Emperor. Now she thought he'd turned and he didn't have time to explain.
"Leia, come on, we're leaving." He manhandled her out of the bed, disturbed when she didn't fight him. Grabbing a dress out of the cupboard next to the bed, Luke handed it to her. Defeat was rolling off her in waves. She thought he'd turned. Well, good. Maybe she'd do what he said and not ask questions. It was going to take all his concentration to get them out alive.
"Are you taking me to Vader or the Emperor?" she asked as he grabbed her boots and hustled her towards the 'fresher. There was a small tremor in her voice, but he could hear a hint of her usual defiance.
Luke took her face in his hands and whispered earnestly, "Neither. Trust me. Please." He ushered her into the 'fresher and handed her the boots. "Hurry," he said.
She emerged a moment later, dressed, with her hair roughly plaited down her back.
Luke led her out of the room, one hand on her upper arm, and walked her through Vader's ship, concentrating on clouding the minds of the stormtroopers and Imperial officers present. Just as Vader had taught him.
…..
By the time they reached a massive docking bay, Leia was certain her suspicions were correct. Nobody stopped them. That in itself was abnormal; even officers had to report to someone, but Luke walked through the Imperial ship as though he owned it.It was not until he led her towards a ship that she started to doubt that certainty. A ship she knew had been impounded…
The Falcon rested on the deck in front of her, looking battered and innocuous. And so seductive. Leia held her breath as Luke led her up the ramp, unable to circumvent the flood of memories and emotions the ship evoked. Hanhanhanhan….
He shut the hatch and said matter-of-factly as he moved swiftly for the cockpit, "I need you to co-pilot."
Leia followed him, slid into Chewie's seat as he settled into Han's, and started pre-flight. Luke was hastily programming the navicomputer and Leia wondered where he was taking her.
Then they raised ship, without even a question, let alone clearance from the docking authority, and Leia's suspicions took hold again. She glanced at Luke as he wove the Falcon through the mass of traffic around Coruscant, wondering cynically if he thought she was stupid enough to take him back to wherever the Rebellion now was.
She checked her instruments, making sure the ship's shielding and hyperdrive were functional. Someone had fixed the ship apparently. Tampering. Han'll have a fit… The thought caught her unprepared. Like he was in the next room… Leia took a shuddering breath, which was more a stifled sob, and struggled fiercely to suppress it. She had to concentrate on the task at hand; not think about…
"I've programmed three jumps," Luke said. "Should be enough to shake any tails." He glanced at her. "We'll decide where we're going then."
Leia nodded, but did not look at him, and a moment later he threw the ship into hyperspace. The shift from realspace into hyperspace had always given Leia the sensation of butterflies in her stomach. This time it exacerbated her nausea. She swallowed several times in an attempt to quell it a little and tried to take her mind off it by watching Luke. He was studying the navicomp intently, waiting for the exact moment to revert to realspace.
He'd obviously programmed a short jump; probably just to the edge of the Coruscant system. And from there? Leia opened her mouth to ask him where he was taking her but closed it as he brought them out of hyperspace and her stomach rolled unpleasantly.
The stars had barely settled into points of light when they were stretching once more, and again the ship was swallowed into the maelstrom of hyperspace. Leia took a deep breath and concentrated on forcing the nausea down. Looking at the swirling madness outside the canopy was making it worse and she closed her eyes.
"Are you alright?" she heard Luke ask, and looked at him. She couldn't help wondering if he had any comprehension of how inane his question sounded to her. All right? With Han gone, herself pregnant, and Luke teaming up with Vader? How could he even ask such a stupid question?
She swallowed again and said flatly, "I'm pregnant, Luke."
"I know."
His words catapulted her back to Bespin and Leia looked at him fearfully, almost gasping at the pain that memory invoked.
Luke sensed her distress but assumed it was because he seemingly knew something he shouldn't, and not wanting to exacerbate her understandable if sudden terror of 'Force' users, he told her, "I was in the medcentre when Vader had you scanned."
"You were there?"
Luke nodded and looked at her. "I tried to protect you and the Emperor zapped me too.Vader took us both to the medcentre."
"Did you know? That the Emperor was a…" She couldn't say the word Jedi.
"A Sith? No, but it explains a lot."
"Yes," Leia agreed, remembering her time in the Imperial Senate. "Yes it does." Her gaze drifted down to the hands in her lap, one of which was lying protectively over her belly. "I thought they'd taken it," she murmured. "For the Emperor…"
"He wants your child," Luke admitted carefully.
Leia looked at him sharply and asked, "Why?"
For the first time in their relationship, Luke lied to her. "I don't know," he said, then hurriedly added, "Vader thinks it's because she's so strong in the Force."
The revelation that Luke knew the sex of her child was not lost on Leia but she dismissed it for the moment to infer, "He wants to make a Dark Jedi of her? Another Sith?" Like you?
Luke looked at her for a long moment then said firmly, "I haven't turned, Leia."
He watched her eyes widen slightly as she realised he had heard her thought, then felt her personal shields raise against him, blocking him from her mind. Like Vader, Luke couldn't help wondering who had taught her such a defence.
"Then explain our escape," Leia said, regarding him coolly.
"Vader doesn't want the Emperor getting his hands on your child any more than you do," Luke told her. "He let us go."
"Why didn't he just terminate it?" Leia asked callously. "Terminate me?"She looked away and glared at the instrumentation in front of her, muttering, "Solve all his problems at once."
"He's not evil, Leia."
Luke regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He doubted he could ever say anything more inflammatory to the princess. Her head snapped round to glare at him and he could feel her rage like a palpable force.
Fear, not just for Leia but for her unborn child, gripped Luke and he determined to set course for Dagobah as soon as these jumps were out of the way. He couldn't risk her falling to the Dark Side, and while he no longer trusted Yoda as he had, Luke couldn't see that he had any other choice. Leia needed to learn how to control her use of the Force now.
"Not evil?"
"Leia-" Luke could see she was trembling with rage and reached out to put a calming hand on her arm, but she jerked it out of his reach.
"Don't touch me," she snapped. "Don't ever touch me."
Luke felt a surge of anger in response to her irrational hatred and forced it down. Nevertheless he said hotly, "You have to get past this, Leia! Just because Vader is my father-"
Leia all but leapt out of her seat at him. "Past…?" she yelled. "Past the fact that he tortured me and made me watch while Tarkin destroyed my entire planet?! Past the fact that he made me watch while he tortured Han for no reason, then tested a carbonite freezing meant for you on him?! Past the fact that he just did tests on my baby that could have killed it?!" Leia surged out of her seat then turned and finished savagely, "Fuck you, Skywalker! And fuck your father!"
She stormed from the cockpit and Luke took a deep breath to try and calm himself. Vader had made her watch the destruction of Alderaan? Had tortured Han on Bespin? Was that what he had felt on Dagobah? Han's pain and Leia's anguish? With sudden understanding, Luke realised that this was how Vader had got him to go to Bespin. He wiped his hands across his face. Leia was right. She was right about everything. Vader had systematically taken everything and everyone Leia had ever loved from her, including her friendship with Luke.
And now he was going to take her father from her too. Luke had no idea how he could ever break that to her, then wondered for a moment whether it would be kinder to leave her ignorant of the fact?
Just like Kenobi and Yoda had done with him?
The thought of Leia finding out from Vader or the Emperor decided him. He would tell her now and she would have to deal with it as best she could. Luke checked the navicomp - forty minutes before the next reversion - and followed the princess back into the ship.
He found her in the 'fresher, could hear her vomiting through the closed hatch.
"Leia?" he called. There was no reply and he asked, "Are you alright?"
Inside the 'fresher Leia was kneeling over the head, sobbing, and wishing desperately that Luke would just go away and leave her alone to wallow in the mess of her life.
"Leia?"
He opened the hatch and Leia hastily tried to wipe the evidence of her tears from her face.
"Get out!" she yelled into the bowl. "Can't I even go to the 'fresher without somebody watching me?!"
Luke frowned then said, "I could hear you vomiting."
"That's all I've been doing for the past three weeks!" she said. "Now will you leave me alone?"
"There's more I have to tell you," Luke said.
"I don't want to hear it," she snapped.
"You have to, Leia," Luke told her. "For your child's sake."
Leia glared at him over her arm then got to her feet and turned to the basin. She washed her face and rinsed her mouth out, then turned to face him.
"Bail Organa was not your father, Leia," Luke said, and was surprised to see not shock or surprise on Leia's face, but defensiveness.
She folded her arms across her chest and said, "Vader told you this? And you believed him?"
"I saw the data myself," Luke assured her, then surmised aloud, "But you already knew, didn't you?"
"Bail is on my birth record as my father, but he told me before I moved to Coruscant that he was not my genetic father," Leia admitted. "Nevertheless, I have always considered Bail my father and will continue to do so. He loved me as much as any father would have."
"Do you know what happened to your real father?"
Leia shook her head. "I was told he died before I was born. During the Clone Wars."
"Same thing I was told," Luke muttered. He looked at Leia and sensed she knew what he was going to say before he said it; could feel the fear and denial rapidly building within her. "You're my sister, Leia."
"That's ludicrous and you know it," she said flatly.
"Anakin Skywalker and Padme Naberrie were married for almost three years, Leia. I was two years old when Anakin turned to the Dark Side, and the Jedi tried to have me killed."
"What?" The implication that the Jedi were not the perfect knights she had been brought up to believe in seemed to disturb her greatly.
"They were afraid I would be as dangerous and unstable as my father. My mother revived me and made a pact with Yoda, the head of the Jedi Council at the time. As it was no longer safe to train me to be a Jedi thanks to the Emperor, and because they knew my father would train me as a dark Jedi, she gave me to Kenobi to hide.
"My guess is she was just pregnant with you when all this happened and, not wanting to lose another child to the Jedi she married Organa and pretended you were his."
Leia's lip trembled, and the grip she had on her elbows was turning her knuckles white, but she said nothing and continued to glare at him.
"Do you remember her?" Luke asked, hoping to deflect the horror of his revelation.
Leia's lips became a thin line and she nodded sharply, but switched her glare to the floor. He watched her swallow hard and wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her.
"My Aunt Beru gave me a small holo of her when I was seven," Luke continued. "Told me she'd died." He paused for a moment then continued, "I thought the woman in that holo was the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. I used to pretend…" he paused and almost smiled as he admitted, "believe… that she and my father were still alive, and that they'd come back for me one day."
He took a step closer to Leia, the hard light in the 'fresher reflecting off the tears on her cheeks, and gently wiped her cheek with his thumb.
"You look so much like her, Leia," he said softly.
Leia started to turn away from him, but he pulled her into an embrace. She allowed him to hold her for a moment then shook her head and disengaged. Luke backed away a little, giving her space, and the lightsabre hanging from his belt bounced against the bulkhead beside him. He took it off and held it out to her.
"This is for you," he said.
Leia looked deeply troubled by it and shook her head.
"For your daughter," Luke clarified. "It belonged to Han's mother."
This time Leia couldn't disguise her shock. "Han's mother was a Jedi?"
Luke nodded. "Killed during the purge," he said, and felt a surge of relief as Leia accepted the lightsabre from his hand.
"How do you know all this?" she asked.
"Vader gave me access to the data files," Luke said.
"But… all that stuff about your mother," she argued. "Vader couldn't have known that…"
"No," Luke admitted. "That was a Force enhanced memory. Vader showed me how to do it."
Leia swallowed again. "You remembered?"
Luke nodded and said, "Adults will say anything in front of a two year old."
He watched Leia look at the lightsabre in her hand. Unlike the lightsabre he had lost on Bespin, the hilt of this one was beautiful. Ornately and intricately engraved with distinctively Corellian patterns, it bespoke of an owner who was proud of her heritage. Despite the fact that she would have begun her Jedi training at a very young age and therefore spent very little time on her homeworld. Maybe that was why having a family of her own had been so important to her. Because she had resented being taken from hers.
"How-" Leia started to ask and Luke replied flatly, "Vader had it." Then admitted to Leia's unspoken conclusion, "He killed her, yes."
Leia's face screwed into an unsightly visage of grief and fury. "And you think he's not evil?!" She pushed past him to storm out of the 'fresher then turned and waved the lightsabre hilt at him. "He ruined Han's life as well as mine!"
"He ruined a lot of people's lives, Leia. Including his own," Luke said calmly.
Enraged, Leia spat, "He chose that life! He chose that life over you, over your mother-"
"Our mother," Luke corrected, and felt a spike of concern as a dark calm descended over the princess suddenly.
"I will never accept that man as my father," she said coldly. "Never."
She stalked into the bunkroom and shut the hatch.
Sighing, Luke returned to the cockpit.