Leia had long ago lost all track of time. How many times had Vader, either alone or accompanied by troopers, lieutenants or the torture droid, entered her cell?
He'd started easy; an injection of truth serum, a few simple ploys to get her to answer. Then the nerve manipulation had begun-short bouts at first, then increasing in length and severity until she lost consciousness from the pain. Between interrogations, he let her recover, and she was brought food—grey,tasteless mash—and water. At first, she'd been able to snatch an hour or so of sleep occasionally, but lately they had begun depriving her of that as well.
Vader had tried something else, too, early on in the interrogation. She had felt a pressure on her mind, a dark presence. But her mind had reflexively slammed in on itself, so fast that it seemed not her will but that of someone else, so tightly that even Vader could not have reached the name he sought without breaking her mind to do it. She had been careful since then to keep her mind intentionally blank when he was there, not to think or even to feel, so far as that was possible. Her father had warned her when she first met Vader, that the Sith Lord had the power to read emotions or even thoughts.
And through the whole thing, Vader had kept up a nightmare courtesy, always calling her by title, not losing his temper, though she thought she'd brought him close a couple of times. He might torture and interrogate her, but never degrade her.
Unlike this new Imperial officer. He had been questioning her for some time now, and he was getting angrier and angrier all the time. Leia was no longer listening; she could probably recite the whole spiel herself by now. A floaty detachment had come over her now, the result of little food and less sleep, she supposed. She felt as though the girl undergoing the questioning was someone quite different from Leia Organa. She wondered how much longer the Imperials would question her before they had her executed, and whether she had gained the Rebellion enough time to find the plans and launch an attack against the battle station.
She was brought sharply back to physical reality when he grabbed her by the upper arms, pushing her back against the wall. The nerves in her arms had been the ones Vader had mostly used for torture, and being held by them was fresh agony. She set her teeth, fixing her eyes on the Admiral's insignia which was just below her eye level.
"Tell us where the Rebel base is, or you will live to regret it!" the Imperial hissed in her face. Leia twisted her head away. Vader's interrogation had been clinical, and she had been able to face it resolutely, but this was violently personal, and she was feeling sheer physical terror.
"Lord Vader's methods seem to be somewhat ineffective," the Admiral sneered. "A little more old-fashioned persuasion may be in order."
A rifle butt crashed against her rib cage, knocking her to the floor. She cried out before she could stop herself. The Imperial officer gave a grim smile, motioning to the troopers to continue the beating. Leia gritted her teeth as more blows fell and pretended to be unconscious. It would not have fooled Vader for a moment, but this officer was no Sith Lord, and he could not afford to risk her death. The beating stopped. One of the troopers hauled her to a sitting position, shaking her around until her eyes flew open.
"Good, I see you are still with us, rebel," the Admiral said. He turned to the stormtroopers. "Strip her." The stormtrooper grabbed her shoulder roughly, making her gasp in pain. Leia wriggled and kicked, but the agonizing pain of her ribs prevented her from making a more effective resistance. She felt the cold air of the cell strike her back as the trooper pulled her gown open. She knocked his arm up, desperately, but probably caused more pain to herself than to him. The gloved and armoured hands forced her down to the floor.
The door hissed, and Leia heard a sound she had never imagined she would be glad to hear: Darth Vader's mechanical breathing. There was a clinking of armour as the stormtroopers came to attention, then a hiss from Vader.
"Admiral Motti, what are you doing here?"
No-one spoke for a breathless moment. Leia squinted up at Vader as he surveyed the situation. She felt panicky, out of control of herself. I will not faint. Or scream.
"This is a battle-station, not a brothel! Princess Leia is my prisoner, and it is my prerogative to oversee her interrogation."
"But you have not been able to..." Motti began defensively.
"Get out," Vader grated. Motti hesitated, but as the Sith Lord flexed the fingers of his right hand, he gulped, saluted and left the cell in ignominious haste.
Leia gave a slightly hysterical giggle as she climbed painfully to her feet. She swayed as she did so, and almost fell, but to her surprised Vader scooped her up-almost gently-and laid her upon the bunk. He examined her bruised back, then said, "You are in no state for further questioning, Your Highness."
He fastened her gown up the back as he continued, "All this is unnecessary; you could end this with one word. You don't have to go through any more of this. Tell me the location of the base and you will be set free."
Leia sat up, holding on to the edge of the bunk for support. I could almost believe you were human once, she thought. Almost.
"Lord Vader, nothing you can do will induce me to betray the Alliance. I'll die before I give in, you must know that."
They looked at one another for a long moment, Leia wondering, as she had wondered as a child on Alderaan, and later in the Senate, what his face looked like behind the mask. Did he even have a face?
At last Vader said, "So be it, your Highness. You know that this course of action will lead to your death." The words were a statement, not a threat. Leia raised her chin defiantly, merely looking at him.
"I believe the commander of this battle station will wish to see you shortly." He turned to go. Paused. "You are strong, Your Highness. And brave. It is a pity we are on opposite sides of this war."
She allowed herself no reaction to this until he was gone, though he waited a moment, seeming to expect one.
When he came again, and led her from her cell for the first time since her capture, she was ready and defiant. She guessed it was her death she was going to, and she was going to face it like a member of the House Organa, and like a soldier. She had smoothed her hair and reapplied her makeup-no-one had bothered taking away the comb and vanity compact she wore on her belt. She had far too much lipstick on, she could feel it, but she had wanted to hide the cut lip she had suffered sometime during the beating. Oddly, she didn't remember being struck in the face. I'm unravelling. Like my hair when I start to pull the pins out. I wish they would kill me and be done with it.
It was easier to make her bland Senator's face with the make-up on. And with her face straight, she could hide her emotions better, giving nothing away to Vader.
So they walked to the viewing gallery, the Princess and the Sith Lord, both masked, to their varying degrees.
She was not surprised to encounter Grand Moff Tarkin, with his death's-head features, in the gallery. Anything to do with warships and armies and enormous firepower would draw him, she thought. As always, her defense was to take the offensive, the insults springing readily to her mind.
"Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board."
"Charming to the last," said Tarkin dryly, chucking her under the chin. "You don't know how hard I found it signing the order to terminate your life!"
Leia jerked her head away, retorting, "I'm surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself!"
Tarkin smiled. "Princess Leia, before your execution I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."
Leia shook her head. "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers."
"Not after we demonstrate the power of this station. In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that'll 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! They wouldn't dare-they couldn't-
"No!" she cried out. " Alderaan is peaceful—we have no weapons—you can't possibly..."
"You would prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system! I grow tired of asking this, so it'll be for the last time," Tarkin continued menacingly. "Where is the Rebel base?"
Leia glanced out the viewport at distant Alderaan, green and perfect, looking close enough to touch. Stall them, she thought. Give the Alliance more time. Suddenly not just her own life, but those of all on Alderaan, were at stake.
"Dantooine," she said softly. It was a split second decision. Dantooine was remote and practically uninhabited. Hopefully, the Imperial would not bother to check the truth of her statement, and if they did, it would take precious time. She bowed her head, repeating, "They're on Dantooine."
"There. You see, Lord Vader, she can be reasonable." He turned to another officer. "Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready."
It took a moment or two for the meaning of the words to penetrate into Leia's brain, and another before she could believe them.
"What?!" she shrieked. This isn't happening, this can't be happening...
"You're far too trusting," Tarkin said urbanely. "Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration. But don't worry. We will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough."
"No!" Leia cried. She made a convulsive spring towards the viewport and distant Alderaan, as though she could leap the intervening miles of space to save her home. But Vader's gloved hand clamped down on her shoulder so hard it hurt, hauling her backwards against him.
Please no stop you can't you mustn't—no! her mind cried frenetically.
And the light of the superlaser touched Alderaan, and it exploded into a million fragments, taking her heart along with it. She felt the screaming, in the back of her mind, and then the silence. And the cold.
Vader had to tug her away by the shoulder, as she stood paralysed. He led her away, her head bowed, broken as no torture could break her. Her last sight of Tarkin was of him standing at the viewport, hands clasped behind him, gazing in satisfaction at the starscape where seconds before there had been a world.
She did not weep, not even when she was alone in the cell again. The cold seemed to have got into her though, for she was shivering uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms round her body, rocking and keening softly. Faces flitted before her eyes; her father and mother, her aunts, her school friends, her bodyguards, a child who had given her flowers the last time she'd left the Palace...she had failed them all. They were all dead because of her. All dead.
I should have killed myself on the Tantive, when I still had my blaster. Then they would have...they would have chosen some other planet. But not Alderaan! My Alderaan, my family, my people!
She cried out softly, the Alderaanian death wail. She had never felt so alone.
No-one came near the cell, now they thought they had what they wanted, and eventually Leia's exhausted body took the upper hand, and she fell into a merciful sleep. She dreamed confused dreams, of Alderaan disintegrating under the green death, and a house burning in a desert, all mixed up.
She must have slept for a long time, because when she was awakened by the sounds of a disturbance in the corridor, she felt rested for the first time in days.
It took a second or two to remember why the weight of grief lay so on her mind, and when she did, she tried to burrow back into unconsciousness again. But the sound of stormtrooper footsteps stopped at her door. So this was death, finally. She would only follow everyone she loved. Leia stretched, opening her eyes.
Not Vader or the detention guards, merely a single stormtrooper, in ill-fitting armour, stood in the doorway. A last retort sprang automatically to her lips.
"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?"
"Huh? Oh, the uniform!" came the uncharacteristic reply. Leia stared. This was no Imperial minion. Somehow she knew this was a friend, this was someone trustworthy. Someone whom she...knew...had known... For a split second, she felt as though she were witnessing this chance-meeting from the outside, as something fated and inevitable, something that had happened a long time before.
Then she was alert and ready, sliding off the bunk, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She'd forgotten what it felt like to hope, to have a purpose! She could feel her focus and determination rushing back, even before he spoke again.
The helmet came off, and she looked into the blue eyes, at the same time strange and yet utterly familiar.
"I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you!"
