Chapter Text
Luke was bored.
He didn’t like dancing. They’d been taught several dances for occasions such as tonight, and while he felt he could perform them well enough, he never felt comfortable doing them. He shared one with Leia, one with his mother, and one with another young dignitary who was around his age. For all three dances, Luke had allowed the other person to lead. His mother and sister did so naturally, but the other noble was taken aback. He’d been expecting Luke, the Imperial Prince, to take the lead naturally, so there was an awkward moment when neither boy was sure what to do. Luke silently encouraged him, though, as best as he could, and they managed to salvage it into a pleasant enough experience for them both.
When they were done, they struck up conversation, and Luke was beginning to feel as though he may actually be starting to have something of a good time. It was short-lived, however, the true purpose of the evening becoming priority once more as he was pulled away from the boy to schmooze with the other dignitaries in attendance.
Fortunately, he was not expected to dance with any of them.
There were times when he and Leia would speak to the same noble, times when they were separated, and even the occasional time when they’d fall into a conversation alongside one or both of their parents. It was beginning to drag on, however, and when Luke checked his chrono, he was devastated to discover that not even two hours had passed since dinner; they were expected to be present for at least three more.
It didn’t help that, the entire time, either Veers or Piett were hovering nearby. They had yet to interfere with anything either twin had done – there had been no reason to – but their constant presence did not do anything to make the evening any more enjoyable.
At last, there was a lull in the conversation, and Luke took his opportunity to nudge Leia the second it sprung up. “Not sure about you, but I could use a break. Wanna step out into the gardens for a few minutes?”
A grin broke out on his sister’s face, and he felt a flood of relief. “I thought you’d never ask. Let’s go!” Before he could react, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him in the direction of the door to their usual haunt amidst the impressive, colourful array of flowers their mother and her gardeners had cultivated.
The gardens were a public space and certainly not off-limits to guests this evening, but with the drink and merriment flowing inside the ballroom, it was likely the outdoor area would be quieter. There were several alcoves and assorted secrets lying between the flora that were easily found if you were looking, but could be equally easily missed if you weren’t, and the twins planned to tuck into one of those to take what they considered a much needed break from the incessant expectation to socialize. They could even manage to give their babysitters the slip if they were clever enough.
Which they were.
They would return to them, of course. As much as they didn’t like being monitored, the twins didn’t have anything personal against the officers. As much fun as it was to mess with them, they didn’t actually want them to get into trouble. Just, for now, they wanted some space.
Losing themselves in the gardens was easy enough. They knew the area better than nearly anyone except perhaps the gardeners themselves. It was just unfortunate, however, when they reached one of their favourite spots within the gardens that someone just so happened to already be there.
They did not immediately recognize the man, but he was tall, thin and smartly dressed, with a gaunt face framed by greying auburn hair. If he hadn’t noticed them, they could have made a break for another one of their preferred alcoves, but he spotted them immediately and offered a wide grin that did not quite reach his eyes. Even without knowing who he was, they could tell he was important, and simply taking off or excusing themselves would go against the spirit of the evening. So the twins were trapped, forced to speak with and humour this man, whatever he may want. Luke could not help but get the distinct impression that they had somehow managed to flit into the web of a spider, and it would take all their combined guile and wit to keep from getting irrevocably entangled.
“Ahh, what a pleasant surprise to find the two of you out here.” The man had a very proper accent, and he maintained a civil and lighthearted tone as he spoke, though his eyes remained cold and calculating, sending a shiver down Luke’s spine. “Wilhuff Tarkin, Governor of Eriadu. I am honoured to make the acquaintance of the Royal Imperial Prince and Princess. It is a privilege I never once considered myself worthy of, but here we are.”
Luke was taken aback. He knew politicians could be duplicitous. He knew that they could be opportunistic. He just so happened to encounter this Tarkin when he was unprepared. He’d been bracing himself for the possibility of slipping up during the entire evening and had prepared a number of verbal recoveries just in case, but the prospect of a break had thrown him off guard. So now here he was, gazing up at a man who smiled down on him and Leia with little on his mind but his own personal gain, and all Luke could do was stare open-mouthed and blink until his wits decided to return to him.
Fortunately, Leia was much quicker to recover.
“Governor Tarkin. Yes, of course. It’s a… pleasure.”
She maintained a strict air of wariness in addressing him. Even without meeting him beforehand, Tarkin emanated the air of someone who could prove to be potentially dangerous. Leia was right in exercising caution, and Luke would follow her lead.
“Yes,” Luke chimed in, “an absolute, unexpected pleasure. We must ask… Has Eriadu been faring well?”
He hoped desperately that it had been. To speak on behalf of his mother’s policies, laws and system was not something he was looking to do tonight. Miraculously, the twins had avoided having to comment an excessive amount on the overarching state of the galaxy, perhaps because of their tender age, and Luke was hoping against hope to maintain that until they were permitted to turn in for the night. Tarkin, however, seemed different from the other politicians they’d interacted with throughout the evening. The way he was eyeing them was very much akin to an anooba circling its prey, causing Luke to shift back and forth on his feet.
“Oh, certainly.” Tarkin’s grin had grown, now, still evading his eyes, but taking on an increased level of faux warmth. “My people have never fared better.” There was a pause, a silence in which neither twin knew what to say or do, but Tarkin was swift to fill it before they had the chance to even contemplate some level of filler. “Tell me, children… what is it that you plan to do for the Outer Rim Territories?” This had the makings of a trick question, Luke was sure, and he found himself subconsciously shuffling towards Leia in hopes that they might find an answer together. “I know that your father has done all he can to eradicate slavery. And yet… There are many worlds that are yet indistinguishable from wild space. Though Eriadu has fared better than most, several other planets have not. Tatooine, in particular, seems to be caught in a never-ending struggle. Even without the Hutts maintaining dominion over everything, the poor, unfortunate desert world is rife with humble, hard-working people who are suffering for no good reason.” His smile finally reached his eyes, but Tarkin seemed as cold as ever. “Surely there is something your family is willing to do for the poor, suffering souls in the Outer Rim?” He paused, looking them up and down, but his silence was not nearly long enough to provide either twin the opportunity to answer. “I only ask because my jurisdiction lies within the Outer Rim, and I have an immense dedication to my people. Should it come down to it, I would much prefer to be able to tell them that their rulers have their best interests at heart.”
“And,” snapped Leia nearly immediately, “pray tell… what is it, exactly, that you governors have been doing for your homeworlds?” She had brushed up on her galactic history before tonight, an area Luke was immensely regretting neglecting at this point. “As far as I know, Eriadu is still massively polluted and its people exploited for their labour to keep up the mining processes there.”
Luke was genuinely impressed. Hearing it now, he knew he’d heard of Eriadu before, and each of those facts rang entirely true. Without Leia’s input, however, he never would have been able to produce that tirade himself. Even Tarkin seemed to hold a level of respect for just how right she was.
It did not take long for his expression to sour once more, however. “Ah. Of course. Eriadu and Tatooine should not be compared at all. My world contributes to the greater galaxy, after all. Tatooine… well, it’s all they can do to simply survive, after all. They have offered nothing of value to our glorious Empire.”
Both twins bristled at that. Luke could feel Leia stretching out with the Force in the same way he was in order to determine if Tarkin knew who their father was, that he’d come from Tatooine. If this was merely coincidence and the man was simply prejudiced, they did not have to like him, but they could allow his words to slide in the interest of greater galactic peace. If he had any sort of inkling, and was choosing to bait them, however…
That would be an entirely different situation.
Luke was scowling at Tarkin, heat burning just beneath his eyes, and he could feel Leia mirroring his expression next to him. “Maybe you don’t know the Outer Rim territories as well as you think, Governor,” Luke spat. “Tatooine has done what it can for our galaxy and given us what we’ve needed from them. You’d be smart to remember that.”
Tarkin’s smile twisted once more, still evading his eyes, still cold and dark and sly. Luke couldn’t help but feel as though he was prey that was merely being toyed with by its predator.
“And that’s what you believe, Little Prince?” Those cold eyes were boring into him now. “It seems to me that no one in the galaxy holds any true value in that world. Even Eriadu had a dish featured in tonight’s dinner, but Tatooine did not. Can you tell me why that is?”
This was a trap. If Tarkin knew who their father was, he was baiting them into revealing the true level of disdain he held towards his homeworld. If he didn’t… then he was manipulating them into revealing the truth.
“It’s because nobody wants to eat bugs,” snapped Leia. If tonight was not paramount to their perception across the galaxy, Luke was certain she’d be sticking her tongue out. “We’ve been there before. We’ve grown up on Coruscant, sure, but we haven’t been isolated to one world. We know what the galaxy is like. And just because we haven’t featured a particular delicacy from some place doesn’t mean it’s an absolute poodoo pit. So if you haven’t been there yourself then shut up, move along, and have a fantastic evening.”
A momentary shocked silence weighed heavy in the air. This wasn’t the first time Leia had spoken out like this, but he was somewhat surprised she’d chosen to do so now. She would always be quick to defend her family, but it was well known that Luke would speak out far sooner to defend their father than Leia would. She was only lashing out now because Tatooine was where their father was from, since neither of them held any real love for the desert planet, but the level of her vehemence caught him off guard. Maybe it was simply because she was frustrated by this evening and tired of pandering to politicians who considered themselves superior and treated them like children. That’s how Luke was feeling, after all, but he didn’t have the same level of gall that Leia did when it came to speaking up about it.
Tarkin was clearly taken aback as well, but he swiftly recovered and offered her another false smile. “Oh, my dear child. I served alongside your father when the Hutts were eradicated. Of course I’ve been there. And I have visited the planet since. It can be so easy, when you are young and rife with privilege, to remain ignorant to the struggles of the very people you have vowed to serve.”
“We aren’t stupid.” Luke surprised himself as the words escaped. “We know the galaxy isn’t perfect. It’s only been ten years since Palpatine. We’ve been taught our history. Do not assume you know anything about us. Because it sounds like you’ve come here with your mind made up when tonight is supposed to be about the galaxy getting to know us in the first place.”
Icy blue eyes bore into Luke, lips twisted into an unsettling smirk, and everything about the expression suggested that Luke had fallen into some sort of a trap. “Ahh, but I do know you. Naïve, sheltered children that you are… You’ve been sold a very specific narrative about the galaxy your entire life, of course. I cannot fault you for that. The fact remains, however, that a great many worlds on the Outer Rim continue to struggle. Tatooine is merely one of them. It lacks solid leadership. When the Hutts lost power, it created a vacuum, and now the world is a haven for the scum of the galaxy. As are so many other worlds on the outskirts. Proper policy was not put into place in the name of so-called freedom for these planets, and they are suffering because of it. They cannot be expected to replace the rule of crime lords with their own form of government without some form of guidance. And I do believe we all know where that guidance should come from.”
Luke could feel Leia’s anger building, next to him. Tarkin was, as subtly as he was able, insulting their parents. His own anger was growing as well, threatening to reach its boiling point quite quickly, but his sister seemed prepared to speak out at any moment. Both twins continued to bite their tongues, and Luke did his best to offer something resembling a gracious smile.
“I… appreciate what it is you’re saying, Governor,” he ground out, “but I believe it takes longer than a decade to fix problems that have been working against a world for multiple decades or even centuries. And with the entire galaxy needing their attention, our parents can only devote so much time to each region. The Outer Rim has never been purposely left out.”
Amusement was flashing in those cold eyes now, and Luke instantly regretted saying anything. “No, perhaps not purposely… But the galaxy continues to face the problems that plagued it during the time of the Republic. So many innocent people get left behind because their ruling bodies do not possess the resources to assist them. All I’m saying is that the worlds on the Outer Rim deserve strong leadership, which they have not received over the course of ten years.” Tarkin took a single step towards Luke – he was speaking directly to him, now. “But you may believe whatever it is you wish, Little Prince. I recognize the reasoning behind your beliefs, no matter how foolish. I only hoped you, an heir to this galaxy, possessed a little more sense than that.”
Leia’s reaction was nearly instant, her anger finally reaching its head, her movements swift and unrestrained. It was a childish action, leftover from the tantrums she’d become infamous among their nannies and tutors for, one of several forms of lashing out she would take towards those who angered or belittled her. Over the years, her tantrums had become a rarity, reserved for such moments when her indignation reached a breaking point and she could no longer restrain herself.
This seemed to be one of those times.
Tarkin had spoken ill of Luke. While Luke himself didn’t particularly care, that had sent his sister over the edge. With every ounce of strength she possessed, she drove her heel into the governor’s left boot, which had him instantly flinching backwards.
“Why you little – ”
“There you two are!”
By this point, the twins could recognize Piett’s voice in an instant. So often did it carry tension beyond measure, but this time it was mingled with relief, presumably at his timing in locating the two of them.
The admiral and governor exchanged a brief glance, neither expression containing any particular fondness for the other, and Tarkin sniffed before drawing himself up. “Well, dear children, it seems you have other responsibilities to attend to. I shall leave you to it.” Turning to Piett, he offered another one of his false smiles. “Good evening to you, Admiral. My regards to yourself and your crew.” With that, the distasteful man limped off out of the gardens to, presumably, tend to his injured foot.
The admiral sneered after him, for a moment, before turning a stern look towards the twins. “You both know better than to go wandering off without supervision. Tarkin is not a man to be trifled with lightly. He may be a relic of Palpatine’s rule, but he is well-liked by his people. The two of you would do well to avoid him. And you would do even better to refrain from wandering off for the rest of this evening, lest you land yourselves into some genuine trouble.”
“Yes, Admiral Piett,” Luke and Leia chorused in unison.
Piett offered them a wary look. It was the first time they’d addressed him properly all evening, which meant he was clearly suspicious, but he wasn’t going to question it – at least not in the moment. It would mean he’d be keeping a closer eye on them. “Come, children, let us return to the festivities. I believe a delegation from Mon Cala wishes to speak to you.”
Exchanging a glance, the twins sighed and trailed after the admiral. Before they departed the gardens, however, Leia had been sure to take a good look at where Tarkin had retreated to, committing it to her memory. This wasn’t over quite yet – she would make sure of that.