Harbinger

Preitha woke to the heady scent of leather in her nostrils, and strong hands stroking her hair. She felt safe and content as her mind slowly swam back up to consciousness. When she realized that the sensations were connected to the Sith Lord, however, she stiffened and pulled away with a start.

“My Lord, I apologize,” she said awkwardly.

“For what?”

“For acting improperly,” she replied, extracting herself from his arms and reaching for her uniform jacket.

Vader caught her hand and held it, running his thumb across her palm. “Nothing improper occured, Lieutenant,” he told her. “I find your presence quite soothing. But it is good that you’re awake; we’re approaching Alderaan.”

A glance toward the viewport confirmed his words – a tiny, aqua-colored orb was just visible in the distance. He released her hand while she donned her jacket, then he led her to the door, and out into the cramped hallway beyond. There were a handful of petty officers milling about. They turned to observe Vader and Preitha’s emergence with unabashed curiosity. Preitha realized with horror that she had not repined her hair.

“Shit!” she breathed, moving to fix it.

“No,” Vader said, catching her arm. “Leave it.”

“People will talk,” she whispered.

“Let them.”

They made their way to the control room in silence. Preitha kept her gaze forward; ignoring anyone they passed along the way. Vader deposited her in the small room and left to retrieve the captive princess. Tarkin stood before the viewscreen, surveying Alderaan with calm calculation.

“I see you are progressing with Vader,” he noted without turning around.

“Yes, Grand Moff,” she answered, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“Do not be so foolish as to grow attached to him, Lieutenant,” he cautioned. “Remember whom you serve in this affair.”

“The Empire.”

“Me!” he stated forcefully. “Understand?”

She nodded and turned away to hide her frown. From anyone else, such words would be considered treasonous.

Admiral Motti entered the room and, with a bow to Tarkin and a smile for Preitha, announced - “We’ve entered the Alderaan system.”

Tarkin’s reply was cut off as Vader reappeared. The Sith Lord was preceded by two stormtroopers escorting the petite princess. Leia’s hands were tightly bound before her.

“Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash,” Leia spat. “I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.”

Preitha hid a smile beneath her hand. She had no love for the rebel princess, but could not help but admire the younger woman’s boldness and wit.

Tarkin chuckled softly. “Charming to the last,” he commented, grasping her chin in his fingers. “You don’t know how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life.”

“I’m surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself!” she countered.

Tarkin dismissed the jab. “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 remained defiant. “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.” The Grand Moff raised one finger menacingly. “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…” though his expression did not change, Preitha knew he was relishing the cruelty of his announcement, “on your home planet of Alderaan.”

For the first time, Leia showed emotion. “No! Alderaan is peaceful! We have no weapons, you can’t possibly-“

“You would prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system!”

Leia set her jaw and glared at him with quiet fury.

“I grow tired of asking this,” Tarkin said, waving one hand, “so it’ll be the last time. Where is the rebel base?”

The princess hesitated, faltered. Preitha expected her to stand her ground. But when the navigational team announced the approach of Alderaan, she relented. “Dantooine,” she whispered, lowering her head in defeat. “They’re on Dantooine.”

Tarkin sneered triumphantly. “There. You see, Lord Vader? She can be reasonable.” He turned to Admiral Motti, “Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready.”

“What?!” Leia shrieked.

“You’re far too trusting. Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration. But don’t worry, we will deal with your rebel friends soon enough.”

“No!” Leia begged. She leaned towards Tarkin desperately and one of Vader’s strong hands clamped down on her shoulder, pulling her back to his chest.

Preitha felt no sympathy for the princess. She was a traitor; the rebels were a malignant, cancerous threat to the peace and security of the Empire, and she hated them, them and everything they represented. The planet Alderaan had always been a thorn in the Empire’s side with its’ not-so-subtle defiance, promoted under the auspices of free speech and peaceful demonstration.

No, Preitha thought as she watched the tiny planet shatter, she wouldn’t mourn them.

“How can you stand here so contented?” Leia asked, gaze fixed steadily on the Lieutenant.

Preitha was momentarily taken aback at having been singled out. “Alderaan prescribed its’ own fate,” she answered after a pause, and saw her father’s grin of approval. More importantly, Vader nodded slightly; he too, it would seem, approved of her words.

“One day you may need your soul, Lieutenant,” Leia spat bitterly as the ‘troopers led her away. “What will you do when you discover you don’t have one?”

Preitha forced a smile. “Pity you won’t have the chance to see for yourself, Princess.”

“Come,” Vader said, extending a hand to Preitha once the captive was gone.

She moved to join him but was stopped by her father stepping into her path.

“I need a word with you,” Motti said.

“Later, Admiral,” Vader growled.

“I would speak to my daughter now, Lord Vader,” Motti insisted.

“Wait outside, Lieutenant,” the Sith Lord ordered calmly.

Preitha nodded and retreated to the hallway with a sigh.

“How quickly you forget, Admiral,” Vader said once she was gone, “that you gave her to me.”

“You misunderstand your position aboard this station,” Motti said, looking to Tarkin for support.

The Grand Moff remained silent. Motti was growing arrogant and stupid, and needed to be put in his place; he would not intervene.

“She will report to you when, and if, I can spare her, Admiral Motti,” Vader stated, turning to the door. “Besides,” he threw over his shoulder as he exited, “we both know she’s not really your daughter.”

******

“What now, my Lord?” Preitha asked Vader as he emerged from the control room. She assumed her familiar place at his side, deducing from his mannerisms that he had won the battle for her attention. She recognized their destination immediately as they retraced their steps back to his quarters.

“How much do you remember of your childhood,” he asked suddenly.

The question startled her. What could possibly be interesting about ‘that’?

“I’d like to know,” Vader prompted.

“I grew up in the Imperial Navy,” she said with a shrug. “My mother died when I was an infant. Wherever my father went, I followed. It’s all I’ve ever known. He taught me to shoot a blaster when I was six. I had my first TIE sim when I was eight, could run the gauntlet by the time I was eleven.”

“The gauntlet?” Vader asked.

“It’s what students at the Academy call the simulation of the Raxus Prime battle,” she supplied.

“That’s one of the final tests for graduation.”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“And what is your life like now?”

“Now? Now I serve the glory of the Empire,” she recited.

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “I’m growing quite fond of your innocence, Lieutenant.”

Again he caught her off guard; she got the impression he found it highly amusing to shock her with seemingly out of character remarks.

The thought prompted another chuckle from the Sith Lord. “I admire your loyalty. And the fact that you do not seem to be frightened of me.”

“Intimidated, yes,” she conceded. “Frightened, no.”

“I wonder, though, how do you know your faith in the Empire is not misplaced?”

“What?”

“You’ve never challenged any of your father’s teachings. How do you know that the path you follow is the right one?”

She considered this for a moment. “I suppose I don’t. But… well, what other choice is there? Join the rebels? They seek to bring democracy back to the galaxy; they are disillusioned idealists. A democratic system may appear preferable in theory, but it fails in practice. No,” she concluded, “this is the only way.”

Vader smiled behind his mask. He was beginning to like this one. “I see why you’ve advanced so quickly, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” she answered quietly.

When they entered his quarters, Preitha lingered at the door, waiting for instruction. Vader noticed her hesitation as he unhooked his heavy cloak and draped it across a chair.

“Your one flaw is that you can’t seem to think for yourself,” he commented bluntly.

“That’s something they don’t teach at the Academy, my Lord,” she answered, unperturbed. “All we need to know is how to follow orders, not how to give them.”

He grunted. “I see we’re training strong leaders then.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how high one rises, we all answer to the Emperor, and we’re not being trained to replace ‘him’, after all. That position is reserved for you, is it not?”

Again Vader smiled. Yes, he did like this one quite a lot. She was loyal, much like he had once been. And, despite her obvious intelligence, she was far less arrogant than most; certainly less than he had been. She was also unabashedly honest. His Master would call her foolish, but Vader found it refreshing. Throughout his questioning of her she had not once thought to lie to him.

“The Emperor,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “has no need of a successor at this time.”

“Of course not,” she answered, finally moving to sit.

“No, come here,” he instructed, standing just in front of the hallway that led to the rest of his quarters.

“Why?” she blurted out, not moving.

“Because I’ve asked you to.”

She walked towards him hesitantly, thinking back to his advances from earlier in the day. If he pressed her, would she deny him? Probably not. But if she had a choice, well, she simply didn’t feel ready.

The first door on the right side of the hallway led into Vader’s study. The door slid open to reveal a richly decorated room with a large, wooden desk at one end, and several deep chairs meant for visitors. The walls were decorated with bas relief carvings of large, hooded figures, many with lightsabers in hand.

Set on the smooth, polished desktop were several potted plants. Each plant was tall, with a greenish stalk roughly the diameter of Preitha’s forearm, and they all boasted exotic, brightly colored flowers. On one plant she counted five differently colored blossoms, boasting hues from pink, to blue, to vibrant orange, with two unusual shades somewhere in between.

“They’re very pretty,” she said, running one finger across the silky petals of a bright blue blossom. “What are they?”

“They’re from your homeworld,” Vader explained.

“I don’t even know what world I’m from, my Lord,” Preitha said, puzzled. “I was never allowed to ask my father.”

“You’re from Chandrila,” he told her. “These flowers are grown near Lake Sah’ot.”

“Chandrila…” she repeated slowly. “I don’t know much about it, except that it’s in the core.”

“The Bormea-Kizua sector,” he confirmed.

“Governor Weizel, then,” she said, attempting to mentally catalogue her knowledge of the world. “An agricultural world, politically liberal, possible ties to the Rebel Alliance,” she looked up, startled, “no wonder my father doesn’t speak of it.”

“Moff Seerdon is a Chandrilan,” Vader said, “did you know that?”

“No,” Preitha shook her head. “So,” she asked, again fingering the soft petals, “do you always keep flowers hidden in your quarters?”

Vader chuckled. “I requested them yesterday, actually.”

“For me?” she inquired, raising her gaze to his masked face.

“For you,” he confirmed, brushing a gloved hand across her cheek.

“But how did you know where I was born?”

“Your father was kind enough to provide the information,” he said, giving her face a lingering caress.

“By ‘provide’, you mean - had available in his mind for you to read, don’t you?” She wasn’t angry or accusing, merely curious. She did not pull away from his touch.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Then you know about my mother,” she mused. “You know what happened to her.”

He hesitated. She ‘would’ have to ask that. Damn.

“My Lord, if you know anything about her at all,” she pressed eagerly. “Please tell me.”

“Now is not the time for this discussion, Preitha,” he said finally. “The subject is far more complicated than you realize.”

“But, my Lord, please-“ she said again. The shrill chime of Vader’s comlink interrupted her

Vader sighed and activated the comm, grateful for the reprieve.

“Lord Vader,” General Tagge’s voice was filled with nervous energy, “it seems we have company.”

“Who?” Vader asked.

“The ship we’ve been looking for,” came the reply. “The one that escaped our forces in Mos Eisley. It seems they’ve come to us. Grand Moff Tarkin wishes to see you right away. You’re to bring the Lieutenant with you.”