Lady Obscura: Vader's Shadow [Star Wars | Luke Skywalker]

Chapter 3

It wasn't long before Athara lost track of time, and it was a while after that that Vader emerged from the cell, his frustration pouring off him in waves. Wisely, Athara didn't say a word. Without him saying anything she took control of the Droid from her Master, allowing him to storm off to calm himself before relating his findings to Tarkin.

Personally, Athara thought he should go to Tarkin immediately. Then, at least, she'd never have to deal with the slimy Grand Moff again...

Passing the Droid off to one of the Security Officers, Athara ducked into the Princess' cell. Needless to say, Athara was more compassionate than her Master, but then, there were few who weren't. Still, however slight her ability for compassion sometimes was, she still felt duty-bound to see to the condition of any prisoner under her charge.

The Princess was sprawled across the thin, unforgiving metallic cot, still incapacitated from the numerous serum injections the droid had given her. Giving the young Alderaanian a quick once over, Athara was relieved to see that injections seemed to be the only method Vader had relied on. The Princess would be reeling for a few days, but otherwise she would have no real scars.

Not physically, anyway.

Gently, Athara reached for her, intending to move the Princess into a more comfortable position. She hesitated when a pair of confusion- and pain-fogged brown eyes met hers. The two young women stared at each other for a moment before Leia jerked away, her movements painfully uncoordinated. When she spoke, her speech was slow and slurred.

"What do you want? Haven't you asked me enough questions?" Impressed at the coherence the Princess retained after the introduction of so many interrogation drugs to her system, Athara held her hands up in a non-threatening gesture, keeping her voice low.

"There are no more questions, Princess. I'm just here to be sure that you have no injuries in need of medical attention." Leia still fixed Athara with a suspicious look, huddling farther into the corner of her cell.

Suddenly feeling the need to escape the cramped cell, Athara turned and left, the Princess' heaving sobs abruptly cut off as the door whooshed shut.

Athara could only wander once she left the detention area, her thoughts too muddled to consider going anywhere else. Thankfully, while she wandered no one thought to interrupt her musings. Whether that was thanks to her current forbidding appearance and aura, or the recognition as the mysterious figure that usually stood at the Dark Lord's side, she didn't know and frankly couldn't care.

Eventually she wandered toward the Dark Force signature that signaled her Master's location. During her wanderings she had felt the ship's laborious jump to lightspeed beneath her feet, but ideas as to the Death Star's destination stayed in the back of her thoughts, and those thoughts were many. She pondered the meaning of her visions, her reaction to the torture of the captive Princess and even went so far as to ponder her stance on the Death Star's purpose and the Emperor's intentions for the monstrous ship whose halls she now strode.

Eventually she tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing herself to muse for a few moments about what to do with the Tantive IV. She was quite tempted to keep it. It was a spoil of war, after all, and she would be perfectly within her rights to keep it, especially as Vader had all but given it to her. For clarity, of course, she would have to clear it with him, but that wasn't likely to be an issue. She had already ordered the necessary repairs to ensure basic systems and the primary engines were operational again. It would still have to be repaired further, repainted and renamed obviously. Refurbishing and redecorating it could be an option as well. It was a good ship... Unfortunately, making Plans for the Tantive IV didn't quite banish her previous thoughts as effectively as she hoped.