WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE/VIOLENCE
AMBUSCADE
(verb) To lie in wait for; to attack from a covert or lurking place; to entrap; to ambush
The door opened and time somehow both slowed and sped, as standing at the head of the table was evil incarnate: none other than Darth Vader himself.
Faced with the bastard who had tortured Leia, who continued to torment her in anguished memories and nightmares, Han's every instinct was to protect her, destroy the thing that hurt her, that had come again to hurt her still more.
Enraged on her behalf, his response was immediate and innate. With the lightning-fast action he was known for, one hand quick-drew his blaster while the other grabbed Leia's hand to shield her. He would guard her with his very being, hold onto her for all he was worth — they were only taking her over his dead body.
Han's split-second reflexes meant that Leia was pushed behind him instantly, almost before she could register what was happening. Over the years, many scenarios had gone through her mind of what she would do if she were confronted with — or, worse still, captured by — Vader again. But now, as that moment arrived, it was nothing like she'd expected. She was neither paralyzed by trauma, nor overcome with rage. Leia knew fear, certainly, but not for herself, for Han.
She'd just watched him fire on Darth Vader, witnessed Vader effortlessly deflect the laser bolts with his very hands. And now, he had Han's only weapon, called from the smuggler's grip to his malevolent own through the power of the Dark Side. Fruitless as it had proven to be, she knew the Sith would not take Han's attempt on his life lightly and was terrified of what retaliation would come to him.
When Boba Fett walked in to stand at the head of the table behind Vader, Leia's distress leapt to its pinnacle. There was only one thing this meant: the hunter had come to collect Han's bounty. Their two enemies had joined forces, all her greatest fears in one room. As the stormtroopers came in from behind and surrounded them, too, she knew there was no way out. It was painfully apparent there would be no escape for them this time.
Disarmed and now cornered by the troopers, Han looked at Lando with contempt. Clearly, they had been set up, and here was the man who'd laid the trap.
Han had learned at a bleakly young age that almost no one could be trusted. He hadn't thought himself capable of being shocked anymore at anyone's proclivity to double-cross. But this one got him.
They'd had their little rivalries, sure, and their lives had taken them on separate courses in recent years as was so often the way with spacers, but before Luke, Lando had been the closest he'd ever had to a human brother.
None of that mattered now; the man was dead to him.
"I had no choice. They arrived right before you did. I'm sorry," Lando offered, gravely but succinctly. He gave no further justification, recognizing how feeble any excuse from him would sound at the moment.
Leia observed the men's interaction, tense and silent. Her brain was already busily trying to work out everyone's angles — and if there were any that could be exploited to their advantage. In the back of her mind, however, her thoughts were with Han and the sting he must be feeling from his friend's betrayal. Although Han said he didn't trust Lando completely either, she knew a part of him had. They'd once been tried and true friends, when circumstances had given Han so very few opportunities to rely on anyone. Now to have that trust met with treachery…It must be a bitter pill to swallow.
She looked to Han warily. Given what he'd already done, she worried he might react impulsively again — out of anger at Lando or out of concern for her, particularly with Vader present — in a manner that could bring him harm. But she resolved to follow his tone. Whether he meant to go into this kicking and screaming, or in a grudgeful but nonviolent surrender, they would operate as a united front.
Han's mind followed an identical track. Ambushed as they were, hemmed in and without weapons, they had no choice but to go along with whatever this was, at least for now. But first: with a quick glance at Leia, he enclosed her hand firmly in his once more.
It was part gesture for the others to take note — they were in this together, an inseparable unified team; part as a means of comfort to Leia in the face of the demon that haunted her — I'm right here with you, Sweetheart, it'll be okay, you don't have to be afraid, I won't let anything happen to you; and part effort at protection, or more realistically, his method of reassuring himself — Leia was right there by his side, no one was taking her, nothing would happen to her, he would defend her with his life.
Turning back to his old 'friend', Han answered with a cold, "I'm sorry, too", displaying all of the anger and none of the hurt at Lando's duplicity, a skill he'd developed over a hard-fought lifetime.
[You'll be sorry], Chewie barked at Lando. [I will see you pay for this one day.]
Without another word, only the exchange of a last long look that Han hoped conveyed reassurance, he and Leia turned as one to face their fate.
Just a single step into the room, the doors closed with finality behind them.
Han felt the slight tremor in Leia's hand at being sealed in with Vader. He didn't want to give away any traces of weakness to their captors, but he couldn't just stand there in the face of her suffering without offering some solace. "It's alright," he whispered to her beneath his breath.
Leia silently nodded. Han's show of diligent support was just the impetus she needed to keep herself together, to focus her mind not on her fears or lingering trauma but on finding a way out of this.
It was evident it had always been a trap, before they even set foot on Bespin. Everything made sense now; her bad feeling about this place had been right all along. But if the Empire was already there as Lando claimed, why not capture them right away once the Falcon landed?
The very moment after her mind posed the question, it answered it for her: because Fett and the battalion of stormtroopers had been waiting for Vader to arrive. As soon as he had, Lando was ordered to collect them, and the trap was sprung.
Clearly, Vader wanted to do this himself. So what was he playing at?
Exactly what was his plan that it needed to be carried out so directly? Was it a personal vendetta, some sick sense of satisfaction to watch them suffer in person, carrying out revenge himself on the ones he blamed for destroying the Death Star? Or was there something even more sinister transpiring here?
Leia didn't have long to ponder it before Vader stepped into action, continuing his twisted charade of politeness by inviting them — which they understood was no invitation but a direct order — to sit down to breakfast.
Once they were all seated around the table like some kind of nightmarish dysfunctional family — Han and Leia on one side, Chewbacca and Lando on the other, Vader at the head of the table, and Fett on the opposite end — Vader bade in the staff to actually serve them a meal. For whatever reason, possibly just to throw them further off-guard, he was determined to keep up this shroud of manufactured civility.
"I've been meaning to catch up with you for some time," Vader eventually spoke again, the first sign they might be getting down to business. He seemed to be addressing Leia, but it could be meant vaguely for the lot of them. "Boba Fett finally managed to track your ship — though it might be generous calling it that — just outside of Bespin."
Leia pressed her thigh into Han's beneath the table, signaling to let the slight against the Falcon go unaddressed. As much as she despised Vader and longed to see him destroyed, they currently couldn't afford to unduly antagonize him.
"Fortunately for the inhabitants of this settlement," Vader continued, "Baron Calrissian saw the wisdom in cooperating. Or perhaps he merely correctly recognized the might of the Galactic Empire."
Lando picked perfunctorily at his nuna sausage link, moving it about his plate absently with fork and knife. He hadn't 'recognized the might of the Galactic Empire' so much as seen how screwed his citizens would be if he hadn't obliged Vader. He hadn't been lying to Han earlier; he was responsible these days. There had been a time when he thrived on living outside the law — the thrill of running a risky scheme, placing a longshot bet, covertly stealing back his lost property. But he'd laid down roots on Bespin, felt real accountability to those who lived here, truly cared about the future of this settlement. All of that meant he'd had no choice but to do as Lord Vader asked.
And honestly, his agreement with Vader was surprisingly mild. In exchange for the Empire looking the other way and leaving Cloud City to its own devices, all Lando had to do was turn Han, Chewbacca, and the princess over to Vader at the appointed time. He had no other option regardless, but he could act with a less guilt-ridden conscience since Vader only wanted to use them as bait. His entire purpose was to hold them as prisoners in order to get someone named Skywalker to turn himself in. After that, Vader would allow Han and his entourage to go free.
So while Lando knew his old friend hated him now, in the end, no one would truly be harmed by the deal other than this Skywalker. He figured Skywalker must be someone substantial if Vader wanted him this badly, but he made a point of staying out of global politics, keeping to his own corner of the galaxy — and better this Skywalker fellow than anyone Lando knew personally.
He chanced a glance across at the princess, not quite meeting her eye. She glared at him indignantly, then looked away.
Leia's apprehension had swiftly turned to irritation as the scene played out. It was all so sickeningly artificial. This was nothing but contrived sport for Vader's amusement: his pretended invitation, the "polite" conversation he was keeping up all by himself, the awkward breakfast he'd forced upon them that no one was actually eating. It was as odd as it was unsettling.
There was no point to it other than to increase their anxiety by delaying the inevitable, no purpose beyond making them fretfully wonder at their fate. In short, Vader was playing with his prey before he destroyed them, and she'd had enough.
Exasperated, Leia picked up her unused knife and slammed it back down onto the table with a purposefully noticeable clatter. The Sith's plasteel-shielded eyes immediately held fast to her.
"I sense impatience from this side of the table," his mechanized voice mocked.
"Then you sense correctly, Vader." Leia had long ago dispensed with his title; he would never receive even a sarcastically spoken honor from her. "Why not get to the point of this imposed 'meeting'? Better yet, why not drop the pretense altogether and call it what it is: imprisonment. Let me guess, you wish to know the location of our Rebel base. You know, one of these days you'll have to come up with a new line."
"As pleasant as always, Princess," Vader responded. "Perhaps you'll see fit to utilize some of that wit to be of use to me for a change, rather than a continued thorn in my side."
"Do you have a side?" Han put in. "'Cause Nar Shaddaa odds have it ten to one you're mostly droid under there."
"Ah, Captain Solo," Vader replied after a beat, turning his focus onto the seasoned spacer. "I'm told what you lack in refinery you do make up for in marksmanship."
"Yeah, I'm a real peach." Han's gaze trained in on Vader, determined to bait his attention away from Leia. "Bet it still burns you up that a smuggler sent you spiraling out of the sky and straight onto your ass." He flashed a vicious smirk. "Again, that's if you got one."
Vader made no rejoinder to Han, instead turning to Leia. "They say there is no accounting for taste, Your Highness, but I can only imagine how exceptionally proud Queen Breha and the Viceroy would be of your choice in a mate."
From the corner of his eye, Han saw Leia pale slightly at the insult and felt instant, white-hot rage. "Hey, you asthmatic piece of shit. Keep her parents' names out of your mouth, or I swear to all the gods I will kill you."
"How do you plan to accomplish that when I've already confiscated your weapon? Very easily, I might add," Vader dismissed him.
Leia laid a calming hand on Han's arm. Ever the trained diplomat, she kept her expression composed, though she shared in his seething anger. "There's no need for anyone to do any killing and ruin this lovely table arrangement. After all, you obviously went to great pains to set this scene," she addressed Vader. "But I assure you, whatever you think you know about Captain Solo and I is mistaken."
As she was only human, however, she allowed a bit of snark to seep through while dispelling his presumptions. "Really, I'm surprised the Imperial Supreme Commander," she derisively articulated, "would deign to listen to idle gossip."
"And I was surprised the Last Princess of Alderaan would lower herself to engage in amorous congress with a common drug runner," Vader retorted.
"We are not—"
"Do you truly believe you are in a position to continue this tiresome ruse?"
"What position is that? The one you helped place me in as the last princess?" Leia snapped. She thought she detected Vader sigh in annoyance, but Han was right; it was difficult to tell through the heavy mechanical breathing.
"If you insist, then we will settle this matter quickly." Vader turned to Han, now with what Leia sensed was a menacing sneer. "Your reputation precedes you, Captain Solo."
"Yeah?" Han's expression was rife with disinterest, his tone dripping disdain, as if he couldn't care less about the Dark Lord's opinion.
"Indeed, I did want to know more about the one who impeded me from preventing the Death Star's destruction," Vader went on, undeterred by the smuggler's indifference. "And what a shining character reference I discovered. Since you seem to take great joy in boasting your accomplishments, perhaps you would be more inclined toward admitting the truth."
Han smiled in faux warmth. "And perhaps you would be inclined to go fuck yourself."
"Han," Leia breathed warningly.
"Charming to the last. Very well. If you refuse to speak voluntarily, there are other methods," Vader threatened. "In the past, the princess has demonstrated an impressive level of resistance to a mind probe. I don't imagine that will be a problem with you," he scoffed, letting the insult settle a moment before stretching out his hand toward the captain's temple.
Though nothing discernable transpired, Han's face tensed, then his entire body, his features locking in a grimace.
Leia knew immediately what was happening. Drain Knowledge, an advanced Sith technique utilizing the Dark Side of the Force to violently invade the subject's mind against their well.
It was an exacting violation, capable of retrieving not only relevant military information but deeply personal moments, pillaging a being's cherished memories with the causality of flipping through a holomagazine. Most often with the end goal of using that information against them. Other times, simply for the torment of desecrating their sense of privacy.
Leia recognized it instantly with an unfortunate familiarity.
As soon as she'd begun assisting her father in his covert operations, part of her training had been in resisting Imperial inquisitors and their increasingly disturbing and inhumane methods. She had been rigorously prepared against them, and when that preparation paid off, she came to not merely witness Drain Knowledge but personally experience it.
After the interrogation droid and truth serums proved unsuccessful during her imprisonment aboard the Death Star, Vader had used his mind powers in an attempt to convince her that he was a Rebel operative with direct instructions from Bail and that to deny him would be a flagrant betrayal of her father. Once that too failed, he turned his Sith capabilities upon her to access her mind directly. When he was unable to force his way in, he employed his skills to make her feel as if her very blood was on fire and the only way to stop the excruciating pain and prevent her agonizing and imminent death was to tell him the location of their hidden Rebel base.
Vader stretched his hand further now, and Han looked like he was enduring physical pain. Whether it was directly from what Vader was doing — perhaps something similar to what he had put her through — or was caused by Han's attempt to resist Vader's probe, Leia didn't know.
Unfortunately for them both, Han was about to discover he did not nearly possess her proficiency at warding off Sith telepathy.
In fact, Vader found Captain Solo to be such an easy mark, he nearly chuckled to himself. The more fortitude and stamina the captain put into shielding information, the more it revealed itself through his efforts. "I am fully aware of your debt to the Hutts and the subsequent death mark. That is not what I seek. Show me more…" The Sith Lord's wrist gave the slightest twist of triumph as he achieved his goal. "Ah, Princess, there you are."
"Noo!" Han protested, his face contorting in distress at the fierceness of his struggle against Vader's mental hold. He was fighting ferociously to withhold thoughts, feelings, memories — any information pertaining to her.
Seeing his torment, remembering her own and fearing Han was suffering even a fraction of the same, Leia abandoned all pride. "Stop! Please!" she pleaded in the same beseeching words she'd used back then.
The princess's outburst didn't move him in the least. Nevertheless, having already discovered what he wanted, Vader dropped his hand and released the captain.
Han slumped over the table, sweaty and winded. Devastated by his inability to protect Leia, he struggled through his lack of breath to ask warily, "You…saw…what, exactly?"
"Nothing too violating," Vader's pitiless voice taunted. "I retreated as soon as I found what I needed."
The moment he sagged down, Leia had wrapped her arms around Han's shoulders without thinking, instinctively offering him her comfort. Now, remembering their audience and the indifferent role she was meant to be playing, she pulled back slightly, though she kept her hand on his back. Though, depending on what memory Vader had wrenched from Han, the deception may already be a lost cause.
"Which was?" Leia echoed Han's question.
"Proof, Princess. Undeniable proof that the two of you are intimately involved, just as I said."
The vagueness of his statement was inadequate to persuade her; she wasn't about to take Vader's word for it. "I'll need you to be more specific."
"A request you will soon regret," Vader jeered, "but as you wish. I saw you, technically decent by the very loosest interpretation of the word. On a game table. With Captain Solo. Do I need to continue, Your Highness?"
He saw them the night they played strip sabacc. The knowledge settled heavily on them both.
It could be worse — Vader could have pilfered Han's memory of last night or this morning — but not much. By the time they would have been 'on a game table', she was wearing only Han's shirt, and Han was in nothing but his snug boxer briefs. She had her legs wrapped around his hips as they fervidly kissed…as they moved together, against each other, as they very nearly—
Letting her hand slip off Han's shoulder, Leia shook her head demurely and uttered a quiet, "No. You don't need to continue."
"Now that we have established the two of you are, indeed, lovers," Vader announced victoriously, "we can move on to what each of you would be willing to do to protect the other."
All sorts of alarms went off in Han's head at that, and he instantly recovered to full attention. Leia, however, beat him to responding.
"I needn't protect Captain Solo because there is nothing you could want from him. He isn't with the Rebel Alliance."
"Has no one told him that these past years?" Vader rebutted, sounding as amused as it was possible for his altered voice to emote.
Han's constant presence with the Alliance since the Death Star was fairly easily discoverable for anyone who went looking, certainly widely rumored enough to have raised red flags with Imperial Intelligence. At the very least, it represented guilt by association and was a difficult, highly confirmable detail to argue their way out of. But if anyone could, it was Leia, and she was determined to do just that.
Han had spent years guarding her. Literally, on missions. Figuratively, from the pain, loss, and trauma that haunted her, ironically, most of which came at the hands of the Dark One who sat before them now. Han had shielded her every way and time he possibly could, from the large and dire to the small and mundane: taking more than one blaster bolt that was meant for her; leading her out of and comforting her through the harrowing and torturously realistic night terrors; sparing her the inevitable feelings of extravagance and guilt that would have come from knowing he went four hyper jumps out of his way to stock her favorite tea, or spent his entire months' worth of pay — back when he was getting any — to buy her the latest rare artifact from Alderaan he'd managed to scrounge up in his travels.
Han had been protecting her in one way or another from the very moment they met, fighting like hell to keep her safely atop the piles of garbage when she was still a virtual stranger to him, and Leia loved him for it. Not because she felt she needed protection, but because he cared enough to so strongly want to provide it. It was as much a part of Han's nature to defend those he cared about as it was in hers. And she would fight like hell to protect him now.
She'd been through this before, she could make it through it again.
And after all, they were only in this position because of her. She was one of the Empire's Most Wanted. She was who Vader was after. It was her 'crimes' they were meant to answer for. She should be the one to take whatever punishment the Sith dished out.
Alone.
The most important thing, the only thing she was focused on, was sparing Han that same torture she'd been made to endure.
"It is true that Han travels with us," Leia conceded. There was no sense in denying it. The strength of her argument came in how she explained it. "But that's only because of me. Because we are involved. As you plainly saw. That doesn't mean the Alliance to Restore the Republic sees fit to share pertinent security details with my consort."
"Kriff, Leia," she heard Han quietly cuss beside her. "You think I'm gonna let you throw yourself to the rancor to protect me?" he said incredulously. It took him less than a second to turn to Vader with resolve. "Hey, Bright Eyes, for once you got something right."
"Han, no," Leia interjected, trying to stop him.
"I've been runnin' missions for the Alliance since Yavin."
"Han!" she pleaded, more desperately now. "Do not suggest that—"
"I'm as deep into the Alliance as the princess is," he cut her off, announcing his allegiances to their captor with bold defiance.
Giving up on reasoning with Han, Leia frantically fought for Vader's attention. "Captain Solo is my consort. Nothing more." She infused her tone with off-color insinuation; let them think she was cheap and vulgar if it saved Han. "You've just seen why I keep him around. From that alone, I should think it would be obvious the reason he chooses to stay in my company — and it couldn't have less to do with overthrowing the government. He is not an officer of the Rebel Alliance. He isn't even a member of the Alliance. He keeps my bed warm; that is all he does. To interrogate him would be nothing more than a waste of your time. I'm the one you want. I'm the traitor."
Han shook his head, his jaw tightening. "She's lying to protect me. Anything she knows, I know," he maintained, resolute on fixing the target on his back. In the service of that goal, he would lean into whatever lowdown opinion Vader had of him. "Sure, I ain't got no title, but would you expect them to give one to someone like me? Doesn't mean I haven't taken out plenty of your troopers, that's for damn sure. More than enough to make you need to increase 'recruitment'."
The word rolled off Han's tongue with a vicious level of sarcasm — everyone knew, though few had the courage to admit aloud, that service to the Empire was rarely voluntary and frequently nothing more than a forced roundup at blaster-point.
"Remember that entire battalion of bucketheads you conscripted off Verdanth, the one fresh out of all the time and credits of training? That was me who took 'em all out," Han proudly provoked, both forefingers pointed swaggeringly back at his own chest. "And that stockpile of ion cannons and turbolasers from your prized Tier One armory on Stassia? Yep," he grinned with irritating arrogance. "That was me, too. Not only am I the one who nabbed it, it was all my idea. I orchestrated the entire heist, then blew the whole place sky-high — and used the stash to take out that Executor over Jatir. So yeah, I'd say you got reason to interrogate me."
"Don't listen to him," Leia waved off Han's claims. "Even if any of that were true and not just grand boasts on his part, none of it comes close to comparing with my triumphs against the Empire. I'm in High Command. My father founded the Alliance. I've been deeply involved in its innerworkings my whole life. I'm an invaluable operative and top-level cabinet member of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Not to mention the face of the entire Rebellion. What is Captain Solo? Only a fool would go after a nuna when they could have a manka."
"A manka that's useless to you if you can't get anything out of her," Han disputed. He leaned forward across the table, bringing to bear the full extent of his hard-bitten mercenary facade to stare Vader down. "You really think it's gonna be any different this time? We all know you couldn't break her before…" he goaded.
"Yes, and what an embarrassment to sully his record with that failure," Leia asserted. "Why not take this opportunity to correct it?"
"Can't correct it if—"
Vader held up his hand to silence them. "As touching a scene as this has been, it was ineffective at swaying me. You will both give me what I want," he insisted with unyielding coldness.
Leia felt her heart drop in sickening dread. It was no use, then. She had failed in her bid to protect Han.
It didn't matter anymore; there was no longer a need to mince words. Without any reason to hold herself back, at least she could give full reign to her hatred for Vader.
"And who's performing the tiresome ruse now?" she spat with scathing ire. "You don't find anything touching because you can't be touched. You have no feeling at all. The whole galaxy knows you're nothing more than a heartless monster, and one day you'll be made to pay for the atrocities you've wrought!" she exclaimed contemptuously.
The impassioned tones; the depth of intense feeling in her eyes that flashed a mixture of horror and venom at him; her chin raised regally even now…
Suddenly, all Vader could envision was another woman, another voice that threatened to dominate his awareness.
…I don't know you anymore…
In the space of a heartbeat, he saw her there before him, the images of the two women blending into one.
…Because of what you've done, what you plan to do…
And then it was just her, his everything, disappointment and pain sparkling in her beautiful tear-filled eyes.
…Anakin, you're breaking my heart!
The hold was abruptly broken and Vader's consciousness slammed back to Bespin. To the princess sitting with him now, still raging at him; the reprobate smuggler; the towering Wookiee; the disloyal baron.
Vader grasped the table with both hands, fighting back looming emotions at risk of overtaking him by letting the rage flow in and fill him, consume him. Empower him.
"Enough!" he commanded. "Separate them."
At the slightest nod of his head, four troopers appeared and seized them.
AN #1: My small description of Leia's torture aboard the Death Star was based on the 1981 NPR Star Wars radio drama, specifically from Episode 8, "Death Star's Transit". Elements of it were used again in the 2007 book The Rise and Fall of Darth Vader, and the 2015 book Star Wars: A New Hope — The Princess, the Scoundrel, and the Farm Boy, so at this point I take it to be the fully established canon of Leia's Death Star experience.
AN #2: I wanted to lay groundwork for Vader discovering that Leia was Luke's twin. Yes, he read that information from Luke's mind, but he also showed little reaction to it. I like to think something in Vader always felt something unique about Leia, as it did about Luke ("The Force is strong in this one"; "Search your feelings, you know it to be true"), so when Vader realized that was why, it all clicked into place. Not unlike Leia's statement upon finding out Luke was her brother that "somehow I've always known", which I don't take to mean she literally realized they were related since they met, but that she'd always sensed something in him/about him that called to her.
Specifically, too, I wanted to illustrate my head canon that, even without any knowledge or suspicions of her actual bloodline, something in Leia's mannerisms and way of speaking reminded Vader of Padme and that always bothered him. It's very clear from the beginning of A New Hope that this is not Vader and Leia's first interaction. There seems to be a history there, which makes sense given Leia's political standing as both a head of her planet and in an influential Senate seat. I enjoy the thought that those circumstances would compel them into at least a handful of interactions, and every time, little similarities brought on thoughts of Padme that just really got under Vader's skin and ate him up.