#before luke

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

And her Father stumbled. Lord Vader actually stumbled. Piett realized then that it was her power not his Sith commander's which was causing this.

Karking hells.

“Princess…” he said, managing to get to his feet. She may be royal and possessed with this strange power, but she was also a teenager who needed grounding. Comfort.

She blinked and the oppression in the room lightened.

“I’m apparently not a princess, Captain,” she said, icy calm in her wrath now. “I am the bastard child of this….”

“You are NOT!” Lord Vader’s voice rumbled behind her, and the room trembled again. Piett hoped that the Lady’s structural integrity could handle the conflict between father and daughter.

“Your mother and I married in secret,” he continued. "You are our daughter. And I did not abandon you. I thought you dead until a year ago. Then I hunted you as discreetly as possible. The Captain has helped to find you.”

Piett watched her take this in, her shoulders heaving with her deep breaths as though she had been sprinting.

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Vader waited for her.

She exited thirty minutes later and only faltered slightly when she saw him.

“I have already endured the Grand Moff’s tirade,” she informed him, walking down the corridor. He kept pace with her. “I do not need you to add to it.”

“I know it was you,” he stated in low tones as they turned a corner, joining the much wider and busier corridor which led to the massive atrium up here.

“Do you indeed?” she asked calmly, running a hand over her elaborate braids to smooth them.

Padme’ wore braids like that….

He crushed Anakin Skywalker’s memory.

“Turn me in then,” she continued, turning to enter the first doorway to the tropical part of the atrium. “Report me to your Emperor. Make his shriveled little heart dance with joy.”

Again, that deeply buried bit of him reacted. Another lifetime ago he might have laughed. Even now under his mask, his mouth curled.

Aloud he said, “He is your Emperor too.”

“He does say that doesn’t he,” she agreed without agreeing as they strolled between flowers that likely smelled delicious if he could still smell.

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Stars, I miss everything,” Piett sighed, shifting and resigning himself to be uncomfortable due to the wound’s placement.

Veers gave him the galaxy’s best unimpressed look.

“Painkillers, Firmus. Take them.”

‘Iron General’ the Lady’s waste disposal unit.

“Mother Hen,” Piett responded, pointing a finger at his friend. “I already have one of those. Mother Krayt dragon really.”

“Did I hear you giving me lovely compliments?” asked the Princess, entering his room with a cup of tea and what smelled like a fresh grimbl bun. “Also, I would like to be introduced. Also, I have your painkillers.”

Veers folded his arms on screen and looked smug.

Piett pressed his lips together and stifled his annoyance. He liked both of these people very much, but the fussing over this wound was ridiculous. He’d had far worse in his life. He was counting the minutes until he was allowed to get to his feet and work on rebuilding his strength.

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[Why do you not tell him you know?] Artoo asked immediately. He was rolling back and forth across Vader’s sparsely furnished quarters, dragging his little arm against the bulkhead as he did so and creating a deeper and deeper scratch in the finish.

Metal bastard.

“Because that would reveal who I am,” Vader answered, striding to the viewport. “And Bail Organa has plenty to worry about without adding my intention to destroy Palpatine.”

[He also wishes to destroy the putrid evil sack,] Artoo pointed out. [You have similar purpose.]

“Lady,” Vader said looking up. He found himself needing to sigh frequently these days and his regulated breathing did not allow for that relief. “Adjust my quarters.”

She complied immediately to make the atmosphere breathable. He removed his helmet and mask once more, contemplating when he could bring Henley into this in order to see what repairs could be done to his flesh as well as his mechanical parts.

“That is true to an extent, Artoo,” he said, breathing as deeply as he could to adjust. It was painful, but bearable, and the relief of controlling his breathing was always worth it.

How little control he had had over his own life for so many years now.

“But Organa could not hide his knowledge from the Emperor. There will come a time to let him know my plans. But when I do, it will not only be Organa, but the Rebellion if all goes as I hope. Which leads me to ask again , where is Kenobi?”

[ Obviously,] the maddening bolt bucket answered, rolling his camera. [He did not take me with him. So I do not have that information.]

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Leia felt utterly sick and it wasn’t just because of the stun blast that had hit her moments after she’d sent Artoo away with Threepio. The little droid had been cursing bitterly the whole way, but he understood the urgency of what he’d carried and had absolutely bullied Threepio toward the escape pods.

She had to hope that she had bought them enough time to get off ship.

She sat now in a detention cell aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer, bouncing a knee and rubbing at her dirtied senatorial robes.

Was Bail alive?

How many had died at Scarif?

Her crew—her loyal people on the Tantive IV…

Tears pricked her eyes at this. She had seen so many bodies as she was hauled through the corridors of the faithful old vessel—now damaged beyond repair.

But—

Somehow that Rogue group had managed to get the Death Star plans through the blockade. Against all odds they had done it and given their lives in the process.

She would do no less.