Leia had been sleeping—passed out, really—when they came for her. For how long, she didn't know: she only remembered a brief moment where the agony reached a fever pitch that exploded into a blissful nanosecond of realization that she had won (for now) before her body finally let go. It had been long enough that she had some of her energy back. She wondered briefly if they'd given her some kind of drugs to help her focus on her present situation. Probably. It didn't matter though. She could ignore the raging hunger and thirst now that the bewildering dizziness was gone for the moment. The whole situation had now gone on long enough that regaining some of her dignity was like water in an oasis: not enough to save her, but enough to keep her going for just a little longer. Just until she knew whether her plot had worked. Hopefully the realization would come as the space station disintegrated around her.

"This way, Princess." Vader's voice bounced off the metal walls. It was an unnecessary order: the two stormtroopers who had barged into her cell had kept a firm grip on her arms as they guided her through the corridors. She had a habit of counting floors when riding lifts, and she frowned slightly as she reached 50…60….where the hell were they going now? Were they going to toss her out of an airlift? She held back on a hysterical giggle at the thought. Instead, she spent the time pondering witty retorts that would serve as last words before they killed her. Since childhood, Leia had a morbid secret fantasy about writing her own obituary, and they usually included a pithy retort tossed out to some miserable dictator (why had she always assumed she'd be executed by the Empire? Maybe she was clairvoyant, she thought with another mirthless smirk).

The lift jerked to a stop and the stormtroopers yanked her forward before the doors even fully opened. It took immense self-control to keep from gasping. This was the bridge.

The dizziness and nausea, which had been kept at bay by whatever they had pumped into her while she lay in a semi-coma in her cell, slammed back into her like a tsunami. For a second, she willed herself to vomit before realizing that dry heaves would do little to ease her discomfort. Her chest clenching, she peeked over at a bank of controls manned by insect-like officers staring deliberately at blinking readouts on the consoles in front of them. Perfectly disciplined, they didn't even glance up as Vader lead the group over to where a uniformed officer stood waiting in front of an enormous viewscreen.

Anxieties had plagued Leia as a child. Her parents had been patient, encouraging her to share her feelings and seek out their comfort when she was afraid, but even as a small child she had noticed their unease when she complained of terrifying panics that inexplicably preceded disasters large and small- a quake on the southern continent, or a terrible speeder accident that claimed the life of a household staffer. By the time she was ten years old, she could no longer stand how her parents' fear reverberated when she shared her vague concerns. So she stopped. But she could never quite block out the sick, hot ball of fire that lodged itself in her chest and throat and then spread through her whole body until whatever nasty event came to fruition.

That familiar sensation slammed into her with the force of an out of control landspeeder as she was dragged forward. Her body shaking, on fire. Something terrible was about to happen.

Reverting to an old coping habit, she pictured her anxiety as a physical entity. She willed it to leave her arms, her legs, her face and jaw…shrinking, shrinking. Often she completed this exercise by imagining the fire in her body as the flame on a candle, which she would blow out before moving forward with her tasks. But now, it merely became a dense, tight, hot point in her chest. That would have to do.

Leia forced herself to ignore the sound of Vader's loud breathing- she had concentrated on it as a way to keep herself from blurting out the location of the Rebel base, and now it only reminded her of the abuse of the last few hours? Days? She felt a burst of pride when she managed to blurt out one of the signature lines that dominated her fantasies of a dignified death.

"Governor Tarkin. I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board." Had she not been fighting so hard to control the overwhelming terror- or was it rage-hammering her body, she might have taken a moment to silently congratulate herself for fitting two insults into a single statement. Even if they were both a little juvenile.

As Tarkin responded, she found herself only catching brief portions of his little speech. The tight heat in her body was building up in waves. The torture of the previous hours (days?) was still fresh, and she could feel Vader's hands on her shoulders as a crushing weight. But her internal panic quickly overwhelmed even the worst memories, dominating every sense.

"…execution…" She heard Tarkin say, "…operational…"

And then, "Alderaan."

She was dashed back to reality. What had he said?

"I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."

That was it. The source of that burning, choking pain that been building since she had been dragged out of her cell was suddenly intensely obvious. That son of a bitch was going to try to blow up her kriffing planet.

No. Kriffing. Way.

Everything slowed. She heard herself begging, bargaining, knowing it wouldn't work. Dantooine, she said, knowing all the while it was a shot in the dark. Of course it didn't work.

The heat increased, a sun starting to go nova.

Then suddenly, as Vader clutched her to his chest, as Tarkin gave the unthinkable order…

An explosion.

Leia woke up back in her cell.

She was cold, and for a brief moment she expected to open her eyes to a tent in a forest on Alderaan. The pain on the left side of her face convinced her that this fantasy was merely imagination. Gingerly, she pressed two fingertips to her swollen cheek, trying to remember how she ended up here. Her memory was fuzzy- something about Wilhuff Tarkin, and Vader, and…Alderaan.

She sat up.

He said they were going to attack Alderaan. What happened?

Looking up at the sterile walls of her cell, Leia realized she'd be left wondering for a while.