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Leia woke with a firm kick to her ribs. Groggily, she registered the blow. Her senses were latent from the dissipating drugs and exhaustion. She curled in upon herself, a soft whimper escaping her sore lips. She recognized a dull ache on her cheek, as her body pressed involuntarily against the cold durasteel. The hot, swollen bruise of Lord Vader’s rage sent her mind reeling back to her circumstances.
The Death Star.
She made herself silent, dead weight as the Stormtroopers hoisted her into an upright position, encouraging her to walk with a blaster to the small of her back. She stumbled down the cellblock corridors, head down, and battered. She was now more a hostage than ever. The halls were empty on their parade – black walls, glowing red and orange under the grates. It felt every bit a prison - a jail designed to demoralize and disorient. She did not know how long they shuffled her along before they reached stark, blinding white light. A med bay.
“Thank you, gentleman, she will be quite secure here.”
It was a woman’s voice. Leia inclined her gaze to see the source of it. A tidy blonde woman in medical attire regarded her sympathetically. She spoke again, gently.
“Come, Your Highness, we need to get you cleaned up.”
The woman gestured for her to rest on a nearby hospital bed. For something so sterile, it was comforting in comparison to her cell. She laid back gratefully.
“Thank you,” Leia exhaled, her voice hoarse from her torture.
“I’m Anette,” the woman spoke again, “I’ve been instructed to heal your wounds and refresh you a bit.”
“What for?” A sudden realization sunk into Leia’s consciousness. She hadn’t broken for Vader. What could they want her done up for?
Anette spared her another compassionate look, this one more sorrowful than the last. She unwrapped a bacta patch and brought it to Leia’s throbbing bruise. She did not answer, but Leia knew from her benevolence that whatever she was fated for, it was far worse than what she had already endured. The woman’s tender touch reassured Leia that she would save her from it, if she could.
The woman continued to examine her silently, periodically jotting notes on a datapad as she took stock of any sources of injury and vital signs. She provided Leia with water, and a small meal before offering her to bathe. It was a real water bath, warm and soothing to her senses. When she emerged, Anette met her with fresh hairpins and a brush. Almost expertly, she coiled Leia’s long hair back into its two voluminous buns. She removed the bacta patch, offering her a slight smile in confirmation that the medicine had done its work.
“There, you look good as new.”
Leia returned a distraught expression. Desperation squeezed at her heart, and the urge to claw at the women’s kindness grappled with her sanity. Surely someone so humane must be a friend.
“Can you tell me anything?” Leia whispered, eyes searching for any shred of understanding.
The blonde shook her head, somewhat confounded, “There’s nothing to tell.”
The familiar hissing of a respirator interrupted. Lord Vader appeared, flanked by two guards.
“Governor Tarkin will see you now, Your Highness,” he said, extending a massive, black glove in invitation. Leia did not protest as she approached the dark figure before her.
Another parade, only she was a Princess once more.
+++++++
Vader did not touch her, nor did the two guards. She was lead through a maze of gray hallways, again void of sentients. Leia wondered if anyone worked on the station at all, or if it was simply a massive, threatening machine with only a few little men scheming as it hurtled through hyperspace. It was a pathetic image, and one that amused her just enough to restore her wit.
When they arrived at the bridge, Leia’s senses fluttered wildly at the sight in the viewport. Alderaan. Home.
The view was quickly eclipsed by the officious figure of the Grand Moff. Perhaps they were returning her. Perhaps there was hope after all. Still, she remembered their little deal. I suppose we can keep this meeting between the two of us, he had said. She curled her lips into a saccharine, insincere smile.
“Governor Takin,” she greeted, “I should’ve expected you find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.”
He gripped her defiant chin between his thumb and forefinger, punctuating the motion with a firm caress along her jaw. He offered her a sarcastic smirk.
“Charming to the last. You don't know how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life.”
“I'm surprised that you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself,” Leia scoffed.
He ignored her insolent reply.
“Princess Leia, before your execution, you will join me at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational,” Tarkin declared, “No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.”
A dreadful awareness surged through the princess’s mind, as she grasped the Moff’s meaning.
No. No.
“The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.”
He returned his gaze to her, relishing in the pure horror she attempted to disguise in pride.
“Not after we demonstrate the power of this station. In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan.”
“No!” Leia exclaimed at his confirmation, “Alderaan is peaceful. We have no weapons. You can't possibly – “
“You would prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system!” He demanded stepping closer to Leia. Her back met the Sith’s breastplate, and she found herself leaning into the steadiness of it.” I grow tired of asking this, so it will be the last time. Where is the Rebel base?”
Tarkin’s breath danced across her scalp. She felt him inhaling her fragrance, half ready to destroy her, half ready to devour her. His rage and impatience permeated the centimeters between them. Alderaan reflected in the widened black of her pupils.
“Dantooine,” she resigned, “They're on Dantooine.”
“There,” he said, pleased, “You see, Lord Vader? She can be reasonable. Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready.
“What?” Her exclamation was met with a diabolical glare. Terror filled her bones.
“You are far too trusting,” the Moff chastised, “Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration, but don't worry. We will deal with your rebel friends soon enough.”
Leia lurched forward, desperate to claw that vicious sneer off his face, to somehow reduce the foul man to a pulp and crush the Death Star with him. But a familiar grip met her shoulder, forcing her back against the metal of Lord Vader’s armor.
“No.”
And then, nothing and everything at once.
Alderaan burst into a billion fiery atoms, blistering her senses as they burned off their energy into nothingness. It ached against her ribs. Hurt.
She noticed something affirming in the way the dark man behind her held her in place. It was a strangely soothing presence – like the durasteel walls of her cell and the hospital bed before. As the horror coursed through her nervous system, it kept her standing. Almost as if Lord Vader wanted her to feel comfort.
It was a moment before Leia recognized the bustle around her – the sound of officers celebrating. Reveling in the destruction of her homeworld. Fury replaced her disbelief.
“I hope you all burn out,” she growled darkly enough that the rumbles of it caused the Tarkin and his men to turn to her, “the same way you burned out Alderaan.”
Several of the men laughed uncomfortably, as if they could feel in their souls that this was true. Tarkin rolled his eyes.
“Delightful,” he lilted, a fresh, cruel grin growing on his lips, “if you cannot be a princess, then perhaps you’ll make a lovely oracle. I’ve been meaning to add one to my collection. Lord Vader, return her to her cell, for the time being.”
Fear and confusion returned as she was guided back down the lifeless corridors, the officers celebrations fading behind them. She realized that she was ensnared in a trap she did not understand.
Lord Vader stood aside when they reached her cell, gesturing for her to enter as the door slid open. It was strange that he maintained such courtesy, for a man who had just tortured her and forced her to bear witness to Alderaan’s death. Numbly, she complied.
A hollowness gnawed through her stomach as she sunk into the bench, feeling a new chill of metal on her spine. She was desperate.
"What now?" She asked, staring at the familiar grayness of the opposite wall.
"When I know," the Sith responded, "You can be sure that I will let you know."
Leia leaned into the durasteel once more. It was a small reassurance he had given her. And it was enough.