Author's Note: I love Aphra so much. And her devotion to Vader really intrigues me so here have this small piece after Vader leaves her in the caves to do his work.

Aphra stared fondly at the ends of Vader's cape as he strode away from her. The ends of the material were mesmerizing, like a tide hitting the shore, cold black water washing up on hot sand. And like the cold, black sea, he disappeared into the shadows.

She twisted her hands together, the comlink on her belt feeling heavy. She had a month to get her job done. A month to do as Vader bids and then contact him.

Or he would contact her.

'That is something you would not enjoy.'

She shivered. She had no doubt that she would be punished severely if she failed him.

But she wouldn't. She wouldn't fail him.

Aphra's grip tightened on the chip she held in her hand. She was meant for this. She was born for this. She meant it when she told Vader that he is what she's been searching for all her life. The words has flowed out of her before she could stop them. Funny thing was, if she really thought about it, she didn't want to stop them.

She knew she had a loud mouth. She was a talker, couldn't be helped. But something about him made her spill out her emotions like there was no-tomorrow (she doesn't think she's ever been so emotionally vulnerable before till she met him), well, working with Vader, that was possible. Every day with him could be her last, so she relished in it. But she would never, ever, in good conscious betray Vader. She would die before she outed him.

If Aphra was honest with herself, she wasn't too fond of the Empire. But she wasn't fond of the rebellion either.

She was more fond of Vader, whatever side he was. Which seemed to be something of his own creation. Whatever he was doing, was beyond and above her. He had to win. Whatever he was doing, had to be successful.

Because she believed in him. With her heart and soul. And it felt so good to be apart of it, to be apart of something more. To be with him.

She turned to see Triple-Zero standing behind her. "When Mr. IG-90 received a share, I can't help but take my continuing poverty somewhat personally..."

"You take your joy in the work." Aphra looked to all the credit chips surrounding them. She thought a droid built for destruction and torture would think much more little of money.

"I was not locked in a room with a humanoid and a sharp implement, Mistress Aphra. There was 'little' joy."

Ah, there's the murder-bot she knew. "Patience, Triple-Zero. In this outfit, it can only be a matter of time." The Doctor examined the chip closely, wondering what she had in stored for her. More importantly; what the person she was looking for had in stored for them.

She grinned to herself as she slipped the chip given to her into her back pocket. The more time she stood there, the more she risked of disappointing Vader. She began a jog backwards before swinging around, running towards her ship.

"Come on Triple-Z, it's time to go." A she neared the ship, she called out to BT; "Fire her up, Beetee!" Heart racing, she ran up the ramp. Her heart seemed to do that more often now after coming under the wing of Vader.

She couldn't help feeling like she finally belonged. Best. Job. Ever.

Oh yeah, she was born for this.

End

Set during: Star Wars: Darth Vader (#8)