The Grand Moff’s sudden departure had brought about a swift crackdown aboard the Death Star. Technicians, officers, and general personnel, who had been in contact with the Moff close to his time of death, were put on suspension as the Imperial Security Bureau began the arduous process of investigating the circumstances of Tarkin’s murder. Eventually, ISB would find the evidence they were looking for, and it would incriminate an inconsequential officer--leading to their inevitable trial, conviction, and execution. The public would be fed lies while the internal components continued to work in secrecy, but that was the duty of the Emperor’s Hand.

Following Darth Vader’s emergency transmission after Alderaan’s demise, Mara Jade had been tasked by her master to oversee the delicate transition of leadership. With Tarkin dead, Grand Admiral Ewett Niteren was appointed as the leading official on the Death Star, but Niteren’s convoy wouldn’t arrive for a few more rotations, giving the Rebellion forces on Yavin IV more than enough time to scatter into the recesses of the galaxy again. Damn it, Mara swore to herself, You better have a good explanation for this, Vader.

As the last of the "cargo" was loaded onto the Emperor’s personal Lambda-class shuttle, Current, Mara made a mental note of every troop number in the secured hangar. Five... Each had been handpicked by Darth Vader so their discretion was assured. Few people involved means even fewer will ever know about what was actually transpiring, making a much smoother ISB investigation. And a smooth investigation means Mara can leave the station soon and return to her place at the Emperor’s side.

Jade began running through the different methods her master had taught her to get rid of loose ends. The secret codes that only she and a handful of others knew, which allowed Imperial logbooks and reports to be altered, played themselves back and forth with perfect accuracy--the Emperor made sure she could remember even the most complex sequences of characters from only a glance.

Mara stepped away from the ramp as the stormtroopers exited the shuttle and stood in front of her awaiting new orders--all seven troopers, all of whom would meet with various accidents within a week of one another. All of whom would have been running--just like the rebels--if they had any idea of Jade’s intentions for them.

“Dismissed.”

The group made their way out of the hangar, leaving her to her privacy. She entered the shuttle and went through the task of confirming she had everything she needed for the journey back to Coruscant. She passed by each room on the ship, opening and closing the doors, crossing off the names on her mental list.

First, the bodies of Queen Breha Organa and Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin, Mara opened the door and saw the motionless forms lying within two separate preservation capsules. Tarkin’s face looked as severe as ever, his eyes furrowed in a way that made it seem like he was judging Mara’s posture even in death. A thin-lipped frown permanently hung on the Moff’s mouth. Mara guessed Tarkin didn’t like the idea of someone else taking the credit for his big project.

She then turned her eyes to the Queen. Her face seemed to have an almost ethereal serenity to it. The Queen’s mouth held a smile, as if in her last moments she was reassured by the sight of something...

Seeing the two corpses side by side--one angry and the other at peace--Mara would’ve assumed Organa had destroyed the Moff’s homeworld, not the other way around. Jade felt a surge of animosity seeing the Queen, a proud traitor, be so content with her death.

Looks don’t matter when you’re rebel scum, Mara reminded herself, closing the door as a wave of hatred filled her.

Second, Bail Organa, Viceroy of Alderaan. Opening the next door, Mara’s contempt for the traitors started to slip. The man before her was nothing like the charismatic individual she had seen speaking so many times in the Imperial Senate. Everything about him was broken--he didn’t even bother looking up to see who had come to check on him, instead burying his red eyes in his hands and returning to his sorrow.

Jade closed the door as a voice she didn’t recognize rose to combat her empathy. Organa deserves whatever he got, the voice asserted, All the traitors do… this is the price for crossing the Empire.

Mara had a reprieve from her mental debate as she made the much longer transition to the final room. Her black boots echoed in the virtually empty shuttle, and she could make out the reflection of her dark-blue uniform against the polished silver metal. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her blaster pistol rested comfortably in its waist holster. As she stopped outside the final door, she turned to acknowledge the towering shape that seemingly materialized behind her.

“Lord Vader,” Mara tried to muster some respect in her voice, but she still blamed him for the Rebellion's escape, “the Emperor is most displeased by your failure to oversee the Grand Moff’s safety.” The black behemoth let out a particularly hostile breath from his respirator, How the hell did he sneak up on me?

“My master’s displeasure is for him to express, Jade,” He looked down at her, unmoving.

Mara and Vader didn’t necessarily care for one another, that much was obvious, and given recent events, that dislike had the potential to explode into a race for the Emperor’s favor. Palpatine’s Hand versus his apprentice; in a battle, Jade didn’t stand a chance, but if she could destroy the Dark Lord's image, then her master might dispose of him like anyone else.

Mara nudged her head in the direction of the door, “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Vader, I have business to attend to.”

The Sith didn’t move, but he did reach out with his arm to point at Mara. It was a habit Vader used to assert his dominance, and one that was bound to get his finger ripped off if he kept it up.

“You will not be entering this room, Hand,” Vader’s deep voice lacked any doubt.

Jade felt her eyes narrow in annoyance. “The Emperor said--”

“The Emperor is not here,” he cut her off. His finger was lowered, but the tension rose.

“Do you want him to be?” Mara hissed, a malicious glint in her emerald green eyes. The words would have been nonsensical coming from anyone else, but not Mara Jade.

Vader eyed her silently behind his dark mask. He lifted his gaze from her and grew taller, pushing past to input a lock code Mara didn’t recognize. So, Vader knows some things I don’t? The thought was bitter but she swallowed it.

“No one sees the princess without my permission,” he made his way down the silver hallway towards the Current's departure ramp. He paused and tilted his head just enough to see the dark glare Jade fixed to his back. “I am the Emperor’s displeasure,” with that, Darth Vader turned the corner, his footsteps and heavy breathing slowly fading into the ambience of the ship.

Mara watched the Sith go. She loathed the black cloaked man more than she wanted to admit, and she promised herself that as soon as the Emperor willed it, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, would die.

----

The wisps of smoke rising from her mother’s body had barely faded before Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin moved to torment her father next. Bail Organa--her hero--had been reduced to nothing more than silent sobs and groans. Tears fell from the same eyes that used to make her feel so safe, screams came from the voice that used to comfort her when she was scared. The man that used to stand so tall had been reduced to… this.

“The last of the Organa’s,” The Grand Moff reveled in her world’s destruction… her mother’s death… her father’s despair. “A truly lonely existence, isn’t it, Viceroy?” His steel blue eyes showed no sympathy, no remorse--only a pure satisfaction in tearing her family apart. The Moff turned his back on her father, and for a moment, she really believed that maybe her father would be spared. Maybe some part of her life would survive, but a dark realization came to her.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

She couldn’t explain it, but she knew what was going to happen. She heard Tarkin tell his trooper to fire. She saw her father fall to the floor. She felt the loneliness of losing the last of her family. She felt the guilt for allowing herself to be captured. She felt the regret for not hiding the Death Star’s plans. But, above all else, she felt the hate for the Empire--for Tarkin, and Vader, and the Emperor--who brought this pain about. Of all the things she felt… only the hate filled the loneliness.

Only the hate made the pain go away.

And so she dug into that feeling… she clawed her way down as deep as she could go, to a place where pain turned to pleasure. She felt the joy of imagining her hands around Tarkin’s throat, tightening. Forcing that awful smile off his face as he realizes that he doesn’t have the breath to taunt her or her father or anyone else ever again. Feeling his neck seize and his fingers claw at her hands. Squeezing harder and harder as he chokes and rasps and suffers. Until he feels a fraction of the pain she felt. Until she felt a fraction of the joy he feels.

And even when Tarkin falls to the ground, powerless and broken, she won’t consider letting go of her grip. Only when Vader, and the Emperor, and every last Imperial is made to pay for their crimes will she ever let go of her hate. Only when her mother and father and all of Alderaan are avenged, will she ever let go of her pain.

And as the dark vision fades, and the image of the Grand Moff taking his last breath bleeds into reality, she knows that Tarkin’s death won’t be enough to fill the hole in her heart… but it helps.

----

Leia Organa woke with a start.

Her long brown hair had unfurled from its intricate buns, falling over her shoulders and hanging in her face. She brushed the strands away and sat up on the small bed. Leia could feel that her sheets were damp, and the drab gray clothing the Empire had provided her was even more wet from her cold sweat. Changing out of one gray shirt for the next, Leia let her heartbeat settle before trying to do anything else.

The same dream again, Organa had been suffering from frequent nightmares ever since the Empire captured her. They would always begin and end the same way, vividly, as if it all actually happened. But the sensation of strangling the Grand Moff, Leia looked at her hands, It can’t be real, I was nowhere near him…

Still, even awake, she could remember every hard breath, every scratch, every struggle the Moff made to free himself from her grasp--all to no avail. The hopeless death-rattle of his lungs and the resigned collapse of his body against the Death Star’s shiny white floors replayed themselves in Leia’s ears. The enjoyment she felt being able to choke Tarkin and make him pay for everything he did--

Leia didn’t like sleeping anymore.

But being awake was hardly any better. From what she could tell, she was trapped inside an imperial transport shuttle, and had been there for at least five days. A daily meal pack would arrive via the room’s transport tube each time she woke up. I guess no one wants to come visit the rebel-princess personally, Leia thought. It was okay with her, she didn’t really want to see anyone--especially not an imperial, and definitely not--

“Father,” Leia whispered. She hadn’t seen what happened to the viceroy after her “vision”, but she had a feeling in the back of her mind that he was alright. Or at least, what was left of him. Seeing the woman and the world he loved taken right before his eyes must have broken something in Bail Organa, and Leia couldn’t really blame him. She wanted nothing more than to give up, but her mother’s last words stayed with her.

Hope is never lost.

Leia agreed with her mother. She would find a way to prove those words true, to get back at those who had tried to destroy it. Even in death, Breha Organa was still the heart of their family, and Leia wouldn’t forgive herself if she forgot.

With a newfound rush of adrenaline, the princess of Alderaan resolved herself to find a way out of this situation and back to the Rebellion. There was still one man she could go to for help, and because the Empire went through her protocol droid, C-3PO, and astromech, R2-D2, she didn’t have to face intensive Imperial interrogation and divulge her knowledge of the last Jedi in the galaxy: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Kenobi had been a Jedi master in the Old Republic and fought during the Clone Wars, working alongside her father to bridge the peace between the Republic and Separatists before Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine claimed treason and branded the Jedi Order as traitors. Her father had helped Kenobi escape the Purge and relocate to the Outer Rim world of Tatooine. She had planned on asking the Jedi for help before her capture, but now she would just have to find a way to contact him within Imperial custody.

It was definitely a longshot, but it was all Leia had left to fall back on. Mon Mothma was an amazing leader, but she had a hard enough time corralling the skittish leaders of the Rebel Alliance together. After Alderaan, it would be a surprise if the leadership didn’t turn her over to spare their own worlds from a similar fate. The princess knew in her heart that the Jedi were the last hope to stop the Empire--to kill Vader and the Emperor.

The dark fire she felt in her dreams burned again. Imagining the deaths of Darth Vader and the Emperor… Is it wrong to want this? She asked herself. They deserve to die, but should it make me feel this way? She tried not to think about the galactic dictator or his evil henchman, but that became exponentially harder as the door to her room slid open.

Leia took a step back as Darth Vader entered the room, his large form taking up half of the small area. The door closed behind him, and the silence was filled by Vader’s punctuated breathing.

Organa was on edge, but--oddly enough--she didn’t feel any fear. Just anger.

“Are you here to torture me?” she spat, her eyes staring up at the fiend’s black mask. “I figured you would’ve sent one of your imps to do the job.” The question was probing an unsettling possibility.

Vader let Leia toil in the chance that that might indeed be what’s happening. “Your life has just become of value to the Empire, princess.”

Leia was confused--it added to the edge she felt, “What do you mean?”

“I am taking you to have an audience with my master.”

Leia’s words caught in her throat as she imagined being in the presence of the Emperor. She had heard stories from her father about the man; he was shrouded in secrecy and markedly much crueler than how he used to be when he was just the Supreme Chancellor. A kind man turned evil didn’t bother Leia. What did was the fact that he controlled Vader like a Kath-hound on a leash.

“What does the Emperor want with me?” she managed to force out of her surprise.

“I informed him of your murder of the Grand Moff,” Vader responded.

Leia let her eyes fall to her hands as the sensation of strangling Tarkin ran through her skin. I really killed him?

Darth Vader began to turn to leave the room, but Leia snapped out of her trance in time to ask the questions racing through her mind.

“How?” she could hear how desperate her voice sounded, imagined how wild her eyes looked, but she didn't care. She needed an answer for what she was feeling.

Vader turned back to face her, letting out another heavy breath, “the Grand Moff was murdered through the dark side of the Force.”

The Force? Leia struggled to wrap her head around what he meant. Isn’t that what Father said the Jedi use to fight? How could I have killed Tarkin with it? I’m no Jedi…

“Be grateful for your gifts, princess,” the Dark Lord mewed, stepping out of the room, “they have spared your life for now.”

The door slid shut, and Leia could hear his heavy footsteps fall further away. She sat down on her bed, more confused than ever. If Tarkin was really dead, and I killed him, then…

The princess let her thoughts wonder as the muscles in her hands tensed and eased with every image of her nightmares.

----

It took only three days on board the Death Star to complete her mission

Darth Vader found himself in the cockpit of the Current sooner than he would’ve liked. He had visited the princess to get a better understanding of the connection he felt to her, but left even more unbalanced. Leia Organa was strong in the Force, that was of no debate. If given the proper training, she had the potential to become a powerful Sith, perhaps even strong enough to help him overthrow the Emperor. But it wasn’t the princess’s power that concerned him, it was the ripple in the Force he now felt being in her presence.

It was something Vader had never felt before, only appearing after she used her power to kill the Grand Moff. It was a subtle change, just the slightest alteration in the way he perceived her presence, but something deeper gnawed at the back of his mind. What was this strange connection he felt to the princess?

“You know, most co-pilots at least turn the engines on,” Mara Jade’s insolent voice brought Vader back to the present. He was piloting the Current with the Emperor’s Hand--he was on his way back to his master.

Vader didn’t bother to respond to Jade’s comment. He did, however, flip the switches that allowed the Current to rise and slowly free itself from the hangar. As the white and silver innards of the Death Star gave way to the speckled-black of open space, Vader’s mind flashed back to his time on Tatooine--of when he was a slave dreaming of being amongst the billions of stars.

Something about the desert world resonated in his mind… a quiet buzzing that brought his focus back to the princess. But as Mara Jade pulled the hyperdrive lever, the feeling vanished into the blue-white tunnel of hyperspace.