This will be a series of oneshots in which one thing happened differently at any point in the saga, and things spiral down a totally different path because of it. I don't know how long each of them will be, but considering they're essentially new stories for every chapter, they'll probably be much longer than the chapters I usually post. I don't know how I'll write them, either - in this fic, I went with the fact that I wrote the thing that changed, wrote the immediate fallout, then briefly described the long term consequences of it, but I don't know if that will be a theme.

So, yeah. This is an AU where, in Darth Vader #10, where Commodex Tahn revealed that Padmé gave birth to twins, instead of implying that Luke was her only child. I then go on to AU Vader Down slightly, if only because I didn't want to write out every single thing that happens in it, so the outcome is pretty much the same, we just have a different way of getting there.

If you haven't read the comics, you just need to know this: Aphra is a rogue archaeologist who works as an agent for Vader, Tahn is one of the people who planned Padmé's funeral to make it look like she was still pregnant, and this is set between ANH and ESB, shortly after Vader learned the name of the pilot who destroyed the Death Star.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, or any of the characters in this. They belong to their respective owners.

Commodex Tahn

"Stop! Just stop! I can't. . ."

The torture droid waved its hand again, but it was nothing but a blur of silver in his vision. His eyes were streaming now, his voice screaming - he hadn't experienced anything like this since the Clone Wars. . .

Think about Queen Amidala. Think about her. She deserves your loyalty - as do her children. Protect them. . .

But it hurt. Everything hurt. That blasted droid certainly knew how to do its job.

A stronger person - a Jedi - might have survived it. Commodex Tahn was no Jedi.

"Please. . ." he begged, not sure if it was the droid he was begging or his queen. If he was begging for it to stop, or for her forgiveness.

Her forgiveness. . . "Oh, forgive me, please. . ." I can't hold out any longer.

He felt the droid's needle retract from his arm. Heard the clanking of its footsteps as it marched away, heard it tell that woman that he was ready to talk. His chest was heavy, like steel bands were encircling it, crushing it - he wouldn't survive this.

He didn't even have the strength left in him to look up as the woman crouched in front of him. But he could move his eyes, and he fixed his gaze on the tattoo snaking up her right arm. It looked like something in circuitry - was she familiar with droids? That would explain why she worked with them so much.

But hadn't she said she'd grown up during the Clone Wars? On the front lines? Wouldn't she have seen the battle droids there, and hated them for life?

Or maybe she'd been a Separatist, and the droids had been her saviours.

It didn't matter - he knew it didn't matter. He was trying to distract himself from the inevitable, trying to distance himself from his own death, and it wasn't working.

Especially when the woman started talking.

"Amidala's hologram when she was buried made her appear like she was still pregnant," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "But you, Mister Mortician, were one of the very few people who had any access to the body. You know the truth."

The truth? He knew parts of it. Bits and pieces - only the Jedi had known the whole truth, he knew, but they were probably long dead. The only truth left was in bits and pieces, and once he told this woman what she wanted to know, his queen's enemies would be that much closer to putting those pieces together.

But he couldn't keep the secret any longer. It hurt so much.

So he didn't bother shaking his head in denial when the woman said, "Senator Amidala had given birth."

He ground his teeth together even as she pressed on. "Right? She had offspring. The Jedi took it, and put it into hiding." There was a pause, then she pushed, "This can all be over if you just confirm what we already know. . ."

They already knew. He wouldn't be betraying his queen if he gave in - her children were already in danger, and no amount of suffering on his part would stop that. So he could just let his suffering end.

"Yes," he admitted slowly. "She had a son. And a daughter. Healthy twins. They took them away. I don't know anything else." He let his head hang, felt the spasms shoot up and down his neck, and whispered, "Forgive me, my queen," as he waited for the killing blow.

Which never came.

Something was wrong.

He lifted his head again, just enough to see the tension suddenly in every line of the woman's body. She grabbed his chin in one chin and forced him to look her in the eye. "Twins?" she said.

His head beat harder.

Oh, Shiraya's word. They hadn't known about the twins. He ran back through what she'd said - had she thought there was only one? Had they been separated in order to keep that ruse? And which one had been discovered? The girl? The boy?

Which one had he now put in danger?

"Twins," the woman repeated, like she was trying to understand it herself. "What were their names?" She was fishing for information, he knew - fishing for information that would appease whatever master she served, that might reflect better on her should the fact she hadn't known about the twins throw her abilities into doubt.

He tried to shake his head and tried to lie. "I don't-"

"Triple-Zero?"

That blasted droid jabbed him in the side again with the needle, and lightning coursed through him. He screamed, throat already hoarse and shattered from it all, even as the pain intensity only increased. . . and increased. . . and increased. . .

This can all be over. . .

"Wait. . ." he tried to whisper. The woman gestured to the droid, and the pain stopped.

He was panting, his heart beating erratically. Even if the droid didn't flat out kill him, he'd die within the hour with these sorts of chemicals in his body. He'd seen it before, during the Clone Wars.

"Their names?" The woman asked.

But he didn't die soon enough that his interrogator couldn't pry the information from his lips. "Luke. . . and Leia."

Since that fateful day on Mustafar, Vader's breathing had been regulated by his suit, the never-ending rasp of the respirator an annoyance he'd learned to live with.

But that didn't mean that for a moment, he thought he would stop breathing at the report Doctor Aphra gave him about her job on Naboo.

"That's my report," she said, ostensibly ignorant to just how deeply her news had shocked him. But then again, maybe she wasn't: the Dark Side roiling around him had caused the temperature in the cave to drop significantly, and the hairs on her arms pricked up in response to that. "In short: your sources were only half right."

Twins.

Padmé had had twins.

Obi-Wan hadn't only hidden his son from him, but his daughter too. His daughter, who could be anywhere in the galaxy for all he knew.

The thought had him reaching for his lightsaber, remembering their final duel on the Death Star. His death had been far too merciful. . .

It was an effort to push the haze of anger and hate aside for a moment and ask, "Did you discover anything else?"

"Nothing relevant, really," his agent said, lifting her blaster to shoot at one of the crystals outcroppings that grew in the cave. It was what had made this particular cave cluster on Anthan Prime so ideal for secret meetings - the crystals were difficult to travel through - but it was also what held the caves upright. No matter: if the cave came down on them, he could lift the rock with little problem. "Just their names."

Vader unconsciously leaned forward slightly, so he towered over Aphra more than had already did. Their names. . .

If she was taken aback by his sudden eagerness, she didn't show it. "Luke and Leia," she said.

There was a silence as Vader pondered them. Luke - that was the boy, obviously. The boy who'd destroyed the Death Star, who carried his old lightsaber, whom he'd sent Boba Fett to hunt down. The one with a Force presence like a star going supernova.

Luke meant 'light giving' on Naboo, he remembered. It was one of the ones Padmé had selected. He had to admit, it was. . . fitting.

So Leia was the girl. That had been one of the ones that he- that Anakin Skywalker had selected. It made him think of. . .

Of the Princess of Alderaan. Leia Organa.

He frowned behind his mask. Leia was by no means an uncommon name in the galaxy, and, unlike with his son, he had no mental image of his daughter to pair with the name - it was natural he call up an image of the only person named Leia whom he knew of.

But now that he was thinking about it. . .

Dark hair. Dark eyes. That same diminutive stature.

A political genius, and fierce defender of democracy - as bold in her defence of it as Anakin Skywalker had been.

Mental shields as strong as kyber, able to withstand even the worst of his interrogative techniques in her cell on the Death Star.

It was no secret that she had been adopted by the Organas, seeing as the Queen of Alderaan had been unable to produce an heir. Nor that she'd been adopted immediately after the Clone Wars had ended - immediately after Padmé had died. . .

And Padmé had been very good friends with Bail Organa.

He'd been silent for too long. Aphra was looking at him again. "Er. . ."

He didn't speak.

". . .anything else on the to-do list, Lord Vader?"

He mentally shook himself. He could meditate on this later - right now, he needed to find his son (and daughter) and have them brought to him.

So he assigned Aphra the task of finding the location of the boy. He would deal with the girl later.

She was gone soon enough, only the footprints she'd left behind testament to the fact she'd been there at all. And Vader was left alone with his thoughts.

Leia Organa was his daughter.

Leia Organa, the terrorist princess, the teenager he'd tortured, was his daughter.

He didn't know what to do except act. Didn't know anything, except-

The Emperor couldn't know.

He'd known that the Emperor couldn't know about the boy, and he certainly couldn't know about the girl, either. Whatever he did with them - train them as Sith, protect them, give them the galaxy as a crown - they were his, and his master would not take them from him.

They were his children, and Padmé's children, and they would rule the galaxy.

Vrogas Vas, Aphra had said the boy was on. Vader couldn't fathom why.

A dusty rock in the middle of nowhere, which may or may not have a Jedi Temple on its surface? It was a dead place, and he'd expected nothing but dead things when he'd arrived here. He hadn't expected to meet anything alive except the boy - and he certainly hadn't expected to meet anything alive before he'd even landed.

But he had. He'd met three X-wing squadrons before he'd landed. He could only assume they'd been running manoeuvres.

How unfortunate for them.

He could feel their fear as his fighter shot forward, slicing through their ranks with an embarrassing ease. They fired their shots: he evaded them without trouble. They fired their torpedoes: he pushed them away with the Force.

The starfighter squadron that attacked him didn't stand a chance. The second squadron didn't fare well either.

It was with a vicious satisfaction that he watched the debris rain down onto the planet below. These were the Rebels who'd dared defy the Empire, who'd dared hide his children from him. They deserved every inch of the suffering he inflicted for hiding them, poisoning their minds, recruiting them in the fight against their father. . .

He felt another presence charge at him from behind; he swirled round eagerly to face it. A pilot from the only remaining squadron had attacked without the support of his comrades.

The confidence with which he flew, the anger, the aggression Vader could sense through the Force. . .

"Finally," he murmured. "A pilot worth killing."

He watched the Rebel get closer and closer. Felt them stretch deeper into the Force as they flew, letting it guide their actions, and, suddenly, he recognised that blindingly bright Force presence.

"Wait," he murmured, "I sense-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off when his son's fighter collided with his, and they were both sent careening towards the yellow-brown surface of the planet below. Anger bloomed in the other fighter - Vader probed his mind. Luke hadn't wanted anyone else to die, had preferred to sacrifice his own life ramming him than dying in a dogfight, in the hope that he could take Vader with him into death.

Stupid. So stupidly self-sacrificing and noble towards inferiors who didn't deserve it.

And now he was watching him fall in light and fire and metal because of it.

"If he is truly strong in the Force," Vader said pulling his own fighter into a steep, barely-controlled fall, "this will not end him."

What if he's not?

What if he's not as powerful as you think he is? What if he isn't the key you need to overthrow the Emperor, if he's just a useless creature for you to protect? Will you leave him behind? Will you let him die?

"He's my son," Vader said, but he didn't know if that was an excuse for why Luke had to be strong in the Force, or an explanation for whatever he would do if he wasn't.

But he couldn't dwell on that right now, because the ground of Vrogas Vas was coming up quickly, and the fighters had fallen side by side this entire time, and Vader could feel Luke's presence. He was alive.

They both were.

His son was powerful, indeed.

"Did you say Vader?" Han asked. Leia shot him an irritated look. "As in, Darth Vader? The guy who-"

"That's exactly who I mean, Han."

"Then why in the blazes are you going after him?"

"Because it's a chance to take away another of the Emperor's toys." Leia picked up her pace, and despite the fact that Han's legs were much longer than hers, he was forced into a jog. "The base on Vrogas Vas is being mobilised to take him on. That's an entire company. But you know it won't be enough." She swallowed. "We're sending reinforcements. I'm going with them."

"I really think, Your Worship, you should stop and reconsider- Wait." Han froze in the middle of the corridor; Leia turned round to glare at him. "Vrogas Vas? That's where Luke went."

Ignoring the stab she felt in her chest as he said it, she kept walking.

Han hurried to catch up. "Leia! Tell me he's not-"

"Luke would understand the situation, Han," she said hesitantly. She knew it was true, but it felt. . . wrong. "Vader is the priority here."

"Yeah?" For someone who'd flown off to leave Luke to go up against the Death Star alone only a few months ago, Han looked offended. "Well Vader's not my priority."

She ignored him, and he sighed.

"Chewie, get her ready to fly," he said. "And set course for Vrogas Vas."

"If I may say so, sir," C-3PO said when they were in the cockpit, "I have a rather bad feel-"

"Yeah, trust me, goldenrod," Han snapped back, "we all do."

Luke groaned as he came to. It didn't seem like he'd been unconscious for more than a few moments - R2 was still squealing in the socket behind him, and his X-wing was still a smoking wreck. He felt uncomfortably hot from the electrical fire that had started in his engine, but he himself seemed unscathed, which was a miracle in itself.

He made to clamber out of his X-wing, trying to shake the fuzziness away from his brain. Something to do with Vader. . .?

The memories snapped back into focus. Yes, Vader was here. Vader was here, and Luke had nearly died, and something told him that if he'd survived, Vader had too.

With that lovely thought in his mind, he began to untangle himself from the crash webbing and stand up straight. The roof of his fighter was cracked open, sunlight and dust pouring in, but the gap wasn't wide enough for him to fit through. He pushed with his arms to try and widen it, grunting with the effort-

-only to yelp as it was ripped away from him and the sudden influx of sun blinded him.

"Skywalker," snapped a deep, mechanical voice; Luke went cold at the sound of it, even as the bulk of the black armour blotted out the sun.

He'd known that Vader was still alive - after all, if Luke had survived the crash, Vader certainly had. But he'd thought - he'd hoped - that maybe he'd landed a little way away. Far enough away that he could flee.

No such luck.

He opened his mouth - to do what, he didn't know. Snap right back? Plead for mercy? It didn't matter, because Vader's hand seized him by the collar of his flight suit and yanked him up and out of the fighter, so all he could get out was an unintelligible "Oomph," as he valiantly tried not to bite his own tongue.

Then the breath was forced out of him again as his tailbone collided hard with the sandy ground. He panted, glaring up at Vader, who jumped after him and landed with a heavy thud beside him.

"You didn't have to throw me," Luke grumbled, half to himself, as he rubbed at his shoulder. It ached, but Luke couldn't say if it was from the crash, the throw, or both.

Vader studied him for a moment, helmet cocked as if in thought. Luke felt something probing him through the Force, the way Aunt Beru used to pat him down to check for injuries, before Vader's vocoder spat out a sound that may have been a scoff and turned away.

Luke watched him warily for a moment, the broad shoulders and the armorweave cloak flapping at his heels, then reached for the lightsaber at his side. No sooner had he detached it from his belt than it soared through the air into Vader's hand. The man hadn't even turned his head.

Blast it.

But Luke wasn't about to give up there. He hesitantly pressed his palms against the ground and pushed himself to his feet. Once he was up, he made to dust off his hands, only to feel the ground vibrating through the soles of his shoes.

"What. . ."

But he could hear the sound now, the hum of approaching ships, and he turned towards the horizon to see them. Despite his precarious situation, he couldn't quite contain his smile.

"Bombers," he said, recognising the shape of them. He glanced back at Vader, who'd turned to survey the fighters himself. "You'll be dead soon."

And me with you, was what he didn't say - he wasn't quite at peace with that just yet. Ramming Vader's fighter was one thing, this. . . Han, Leia, I'm sorry.

He'd glanced to the ground at the thought, so he didn't see the explosions. But he heard them, and when he glanced up. . .

The bombers were gone. All that was left was falling, fiery debris.

Luke whirled on Vader. "What did you do?"

The Sith Lord surveyed him dispassionately. "Those bombers were poorly designed. They would not have exploded so easily if the fuel tanks weren't so close to the engines."

"So you ruptured the fuel tanks?"

"It was their lives or yours, boy." Luke flinched at the sudden heat in his voice - the Dark Side swelled around him, and he cowered away from it. "While you have proven to see it as a thing of little worth, I do not."

That. . . didn't make any sense.

Vader had been all too willing to kill him during their last. . . encounter. . . on the factory moon, and now it seemed like he was reprimanding him for being reckless? What-

This didn't make any sense.

Luke reached for the Force, as Ben had taught him to do during their all-too-brief training time, but found it. . . unresponsive. Everything around here was tinged with the Light Side, and it was as dazzling to his Force senses as staring into Tatooine's twin suns was to his eyes. He couldn't tell anything from it.

"There is a power in this place," Vader said, like he'd read Luke's mind. Maybe he had - maybe that was just one more time Ben hadn't had the chance to teach him. Because of Vader. "I can feel it stirring. This world was once the site of a Jedi Temple." He turned to look at Luke - at least, it looked like he did. The eye pieces made eye contact impossible, but his mask did tilt towards him. "I presume that's part of the reason you're here?"

Luke flushed. It wasn't the reason he was here, per se - that had been to run training exercises - but he couldn't deny he'd been interested in investigating the Jedi Temple that was on the planet.

Vader shook his head, irritation spiking in the Force. "You-"

"Darth Vader!"

Luke jumped out of his skin. The noxious gases on this planet made it difficult to see long distances, and he watched with bated breath as several dark figures materialised in the mist. Rebel soldiers.

And from the looks of it, there were a lot of them.

"Lay down your weapons!" the soldier continued to shout. "You are surrounded!"

A breeze blew from behind Luke, ruffling his hair, Vader's cape, and clearing the gases for a brief moment. The mist swept back to show the valley they'd crashed in, the smoking wreckage of their fighters - and the dozens upon dozens of Rebels crouched on the sides and ridges of the valley, their blasters all pointed directly at them.

Logically, Luke knew they were aiming for Vader, not him. That didn't make having that many blasters pointed at him any less nerve-wracking.

"Step away, Skywalker!"

Luke hurried to comply, staggering backwards, away from the Dark Lord and towards the shelter of his battered X-wing.

Vader wouldn't have it.

He snapped one arm behind him, and an invisible force caught Luke around the throat, dragging him out of the fighter's shadow and into Vader's. He smacked his head against the ground as he was deposited in a shuddering heap at Vader's feet, the Sith Lord standing directly over him in a strangely protective stance. His vision went blurry.

Despite the head injury, he could still feel the terror the Rebels around him felt as Vader drew his lightsaber and held it before him, unlit.

"Lay down your weapons!" the soldier shouted again, panic stretching his voice thin. "You! Are! Surrounded!"

Vader drew himself up to his full, intimidating height. "All I am surrounded by is fear," there was a snap-hiss as the saber lit, "and dead men."

"Delta Squad, prepare to roll out."

"Princess Organa, I really wish you'd remain here and monitor the situation remotely," the captain pleaded with her. Leia paid him no notice.

"All right, listen up."

C-3PO cut in then. "Please do listen to him, Your Highness. He seems like a sensible man."

Leia ignored him too in favour of jamming the helmet more firmly on her head. "You all know who it is we're after. You've been briefed on what he can do. Trust me when I say. . . Even your darkest imagining doesn't do him justice." She looked around at the squad she was leading out. "You heard what we saw on the monitors back there - he just killed an entire battalion with their own grenades and one laser-sword. So, first sign of a lightsaber, you do not hesitate. You shoot to kill."

"Your Worship!" Han shouted, running to catch up with her. "If you're not going to help find Luke, at least give me a speeder so I can find him."

Leia actually paused at that, looking into Han's earnest face and feeling her heart sink a little. "I am going to find Luke, Han," she told him. "Didn't you hear the reports? Vader captured him."

"What?" Han glanced around. "But this task force - it'll destroy Vader. The kid'll die in the crossfire!"

Leia said stiffly, "That's what happens in war. Luke-"

"Would understand, yeah, I know." Han seemed bitterly disappointed. "'Course he would: the kid's crazy. I thought you knew better." He turned to leave, but Leia grabbed his arm.

"Luke's a Jedi."

"Barely."

"The Force is with him. He won't die today." And then, because Han was looking at her, she burst out, "I'll save him."

Han froze. "You will?"

"Of course I will," she said aloud, even as she battled with herself. Kill Vader or save Luke? Save Luke or kill Vader? "He saved me, didn't he? We can do this."

"This is second platoon, reporting heavy casualties."

"Our tanks! He's exploding our tanks! How can he-"

Leia tightened her grip on her blaster, and took another step. The gases here made it hard to see, but their intel said Vader was close, and her instincts said the same. She couldn't let her guard drop.

Especially not when they were so short-staffed. Most of the squadron had already been wiped out - the only ones left were her and two other men, who shifted more and more nervously with every squeak of the comms.

"He can't be stopped! He's not a man, he's-"

"We have to keep going," she said, ignoring the jitters of her companions. This was it. For Alderaan. For her.

But that didn't make the fear in his voice any less as her companion said, "Y-yes, commander."

"Don't come after him! Whatever you do, don't-"

The comm cut off then, not because the speaker was dead, but because the comlink was. Leia turned, to see her two companions with strangely contorted faces, their hands reaching for their throats as they choked-

She whipped her head back round when she heard the crackle of a lightsaber, and a quiet cry that sounded like-

Luke.

"Well, this is unexpected," said a satisfied voice.

Luke was there, and beside him, holding a lit lightsaber to his neck. . .

Vader.

"Good evening, Princess."

Vader spat out the title as he watched her freeze, eyes flicking from the boy's terrified face to his mask. She should be a princess, but not of Alderaan. She should be the princess of - heir to - the entire blasted Empire.

She tensed up as he spoke, but the hand holding her blaster was steady, and it was aimed right at his head. "Let him go, Vader."

Against his chest, Luke whimpered slightly. It may have just been a reaction to what his sister said, not actual pain, but Vader moved the lightsaber a hair's breadth away from his neck anyway. It was challenging, remaining still enough to keep from slicing his son's throat open, and he didn't want to take any chances.

He would not kill his children, the way he had their mother.

"Lay down your weapon, Your Highness," he told Leia, keeping his voice flat and monotone. He couldn't afford to confuse them with his own riotous emotions right now: he just needed to get them away from this planet, these Rebels.

He'd come here looking for his son.

It was clearly the will of the Force that that should have led to his daughter seeking him out as well.

But Leia didn't react to his statement. If anything, she lifted her blaster higher. He saw the quick war play out across her face: shoot him, or save her friend? Ultimately, though, she remained as predictable as any Rebel and chose the latter. She didn't shoot him - she loved her brother more than she hated her father.

That was a weakness he would have to rid her of.

"Let. Luke. Go."

"You have nothing to bargain with, Your Highness," he replied, lifting his own lightsaber in response. Luke hissed out a breath as it was pressed closer to his neck, no doubt frying some of the hairs by now. The fear he leaked into the Force came in eddies and swirls, but was not insignificant; Vader frowned behind his mask. A little fear of their father would foster respect, but this amount was impractical. He would have to remedy that later.

He lifted her gaze back to the Princess. "Lay down your weapon, Your Highness," he said again, tone chilly. Still held in place, Luke shivered against him, and he saw Leia's arms twitch as well.

"Or what?" she asked, false bravado in her voice. She knew it was false, and she must know that he knew, so Vader didn't understand the charade. But perhaps it was the only thing keeping her together. "You won't kill him - you've got a thirty thousand credit alive-only bounty out on him!"

Very pointedly, Vader tilted his mask to survey the boy. "Is that so?" he asked slowly. He watched Luke's eyes go wide.

Then he dropped the lightsaber, where it sawed through the delicate muscles and bones of his son's wrist.

Luke screamed, and Leia screamed at the sight of him, but it didn't quite drown out the thud of Luke's hand hitting the ground. Vader pulled the boy back into the previous position, with the lightsaber against his throat, but Luke was clutching the stump of his arm with his only remaining hand, violent sobs racking his shoulders, and Vader thought he might slit his own throat on the lightsaber if he didn't steady himself.

"Drop your weapon!" he thundered at Leia, who was still staring wide-eyed at her friend. He didn't have time for this, and the desperation was seeping into his voice.

It was clear that the Princess did not want to see what he would do when truly desperate.

Hands trembling, she dropped the blaster.

"Good," he said, marginally calmer. "Now, sleep."

Mind tricks were not of the Dark Side, but he infused as much suggestion into the word as possible. Leia swayed on her feet, before her eyes snapped open again, face twisting in fury-

"Sleep," he said again, and she slept. He caught her with the Force before she hit the ground.

Good. That was good. He extinguished his lightsaber, and released the boy.

The moment Luke was no longer supported by his father, he fell to his knees. He kept staring at the stump of his lost hand, kept clutching it, like he didn't truly believe what had happened.

He turned his tear-stained face up to look at Vader.

He found he didn't like looking at that gaze. "You as well, Skywalker. Sleep."

Luke wasn't as immune to mental suggestions as his sister. He hit the ground on the first try.

The first thing Luke was aware of was the whirring of some sort of machine. Then, the rhythmic rasp of his own breathing, and somebody else's, and. . . somebody else's.

Instinctively, somehow, he knew he wasn't with the Rebellion.

He lay very still, trying to keep feigning sleep as his mind whirred. The last thing he remembered was. . .

Flying drills above Vrogas Vas.

Crash landing on the planet.

And-

Vader.

The memories barrelled into him at once. Vader had- What had he done? Knocked out Leia. Knocked out him, as well?

He tensed up, trying to clench his fists - only to find one unresponsive. Of course. Vader had cut off his hand. He sucked in a breath, forgetting, for a moment, to pretend to still be asleep.

A moment was enough.

A shrill screech stabbed into his ears at the movement and he jerked upright, slapping his hands over his ears. The screeching was short, but it did its job.

A voice that sounded unnervingly like C-3PO said, "What is it now, Beetee? Mistress Aphra was just upgrading my torture instruments!"

Luke groaned, and opened his eyes. For a moment he thought it was C-3PO standing in front of him, but no. This protocol droid was silver, with eerie red eyes, even if their voices were the same, their mannerisms identical.

"Oh!" The droid staggered closer. "One of the little Rebels is awake. Hello, scum." He offered his right hand. "I am Triple-Zero, a protocol droid specialised in etiquette, translations, customs and torture."

Luke shut his mouth; it had been hanging open. ". . .hi."

He reached to accept the handshake, before he noticed the stump of his right hand. It was covered in a bacta patch, and some drug had been administered so it didn't hurt, but there was still no hand.

He sighed, and reached out with his left, but before he could shake hands, a woman's voice cut through the fog in his brain. "Triple-Zero, Lord Vader wants these two alive and unharmed. No murder, no torture, and no electric shocks."

"I think what you mean is 'no fun'," Triple-Zero muttered to himself. He retracted his hand as he said louder, "Best not do the handshake, then. I might find myself routing a fatal shock through your palm."

Luke dropped his hand quickly.

He lowered his gaze as well, only to raise it just as quickly when the woman came over. She studied him through narrowed eyes, brown hair hidden by the goggles on her head, but what Luke noticed about her first was the tattoo of circuits she had up her right arm, the black ink stark against her brown skin.

"So you're Skywalker, huh," she commented, looking him up and down. "You know, with how interested Vader is in you, I expected you to be. . ." Older. Smarter. Tougher.

More.

Luke was used to hearing it, but that didn't stop him from bristling internally.

"Yeah, well," he said, voice a little brittle, as he pushed himself to his feet. "I am who I am."

The woman gave a noncommittal hum. "I'm Doctor Aphra, by the way," she said. "You and your friend are aboard my ship, the Ark Angel."

"My friend. . ." Something tightened in Luke's chest. "Leia!"

He whirled round to look her, and had located her lying on the mat next to the one he'd been lying on as Aphra said, "Don't worry, she's fine. Had to use a drug on both of you to keep you knocked out for this long; she's smaller than you are, so it probably wore off quicker on you. She'll be awake in a moment, then Vader wants to talk to you."

Luke froze up at the words. He'd known they were there because of Vader, known this woman almost definitely worked for him, but. . . "What does he want with us?"

Aphra shrugged. "Beats me. All I know is, he's been hunting you for a while, and decided to bring the Princess along for the ride. I'm lucky he got you on Vrogas Vas, else it'd have been my head rolling, but I don't know why."

"You have your suspicions, though," he deduced.

She gave a tight smile. "Perceptive. However, I like breathing, so I'm not about to go flapping my mouth to random Rebel scum." She gestured around the room. "Here. Make yourself comfortable. Vader's not gonna talk to you until the Princess wakes up, so might as well entertain yourself while you're at it."

"You could even play a few games of holochess with Beetee and me!" Triple-Zero said.

"Don't play holochess with them," Aphra said. "Not unless you're prepared to make sure you lose, or get the blood drained out of you for winning."

Luke swallowed. "How. . . nice."

"Isn't it?" Triple-Zero said, almost mournfully. "Beetee here and I are professionals." He gestured just behind Luke, who turned to see what looked like a silver astromech with a crimson optical sensor. It beeped, and Luke realised that was where the screeching had come from earlier.

His head throbbed at the thought of it.

"Right. . ." He glanced around the rest of the room. Aside from the roll mats laid out of the floor for him and Leia, the place was cluttered only with computer terminals and droid parts. He couldn't help himself: he made a beeline for one of them. "So, what's all this?"

"I reactivate droids for a living, and sell them," Aphra replied, watching him tinker with the parts. "These two murderbots, for example, answer to me and Lord Vader."

"So Vader's one of your clients?" Luke asked, frowning.

"At the moment, he's my boss." Aphra stepped up to him, and took the droid parts from his hands. "I run errands for him. And, more recently, watch over you two, so get yourself hurt and it's my neck on the line."

"I wasn't going to get myself hurt," he protested.

Aphra put the droid parts down on the table, hard. They snapped together tightly, like some sort of trap. If Luke had been holding it while that happened, he'd have lost his fingers.

"Sure," she said dryly, "because messing around in a workshop full of murderbots speaks volumes about your sense of self-preservation. Vader would-"

"Vader," said a new voice, "can go to hell."

Aphra spun round with a dazzling smile. "Princess! So glad to see you're awake!"

Leia stood upright, sharp and stoic, despite the fact that she'd just woken from being drugged after being kidnapped. Her hair hadn't even come undone - Luke had to marvel at the durability of Alderaanian braids.

"Lord Vader's been so excited to talk to you!"

Luke met Leia's eye - are you alright? Are you hurt?

I'm fine, she nodded back, before drawing herself up again. "Well then?" she said to Aphra, voice frosty, "Let's not keep Lord Vader waiting."

Vader was in the cockpit of the ship when they met him. Leia hadn't stopped glowering the whole way, and when she finally set eyes on the armoured cyborg, her glower became so much hotter that Luke genuinely began to sweat. He was angry at the cyborg too, of course he was, but-

He wasn't afraid to admit he was terrified of how this meeting was going to go.

Aphra ushered them into the seats behind the pilot's and co-pilot's chair, and Vader, sitting in the pilot's chair, spun the seat round to face them.

For a long time, no one said anything. The only sound was the hiss of the automated door as Aphra left the room.

Vader still didn't speak, the continual rasp of his respirator unnerving.

It was Leia who broke the silence, and snapped, "What do you want, murderer?"

Luke winced, despite his own anger, sure there would be some form of retaliation, but Vader still didn't move. Just kept watching them, taking in every tiny detail.

Finally, another eon later, Vader spoke. "Skywalker," he said. "What do you know of your father? Your family?"

Luke sucked in a breath at the unexpected question. "What?" he asked, suddenly much, much angrier. How dare Vader talk about his father? "Trying to make sure there aren't any other Skywalkers you need to kill off?"

"What do you mean?" Vader hadn't moved, but there was something dark and forbidding about his voice suddenly. Luke shivered, the already-chilly cockpit becoming practically freezing. He imagined he could see his breath crystallising on the air as he shouted.

That didn't stop him from shouting. "I mean that you killed him!" He stood up, but a tug of his arm by Leia made him sit down again. It was best not to appear as some sort of threat.

"And who told you that?" The danger in Vader's voice had only increased; there was the creak of leather as he clenched his fists.

"Ben did."

"Kenobi." The co-pilot's seat next to Vader crumpled, as though it was being squeezed by an unseen force. "I should have known."

Then Vader turned to Leia. "What about you, Princess?" The frozen anger in his voice gave way to a sneer at her title. "What happened to your parents?"

Leia lifted her chin. "I think you know full well what happened to my parents, Lord Vader," she said, loudly and coldly, "considering you were there when they were blown up!"

"No." The word dropped into the quiet cockpit like a stone. "I mean your real parents."

"My birth parents died during the Clone Wars," she snapped, "but that doesn't matter. My real parents died with Alderaan."

"No," Vader said, "they did not."

Leia frowned, then opened her mouth, but Vader spoke before she could say anything.

"You have been lied to, young ones," he said. "Your father is not dead, Luke, nor is your real father, Leia." They both flinched when he used their chosen names. "And they are one and the same."

They glanced at each other.

Leia looked sceptical, so it was Luke who said, "So we're. . ."

"Twins," Vader confirmed. "Your mother was Padmé Amidala, Senator and Former Queen of Naboo. And your father is still alive."

Luke's left hand unconsciously sought out Leia's right. He didn't know what was coming next - didn't want to know what was coming next. I have a bad feeling about this. . .

"I am your father."

"You really don't believe this bantha poodoo, do you?" Leia asked him, as she paced the length of the room they'd been put in. As far as she knew, they were still on the Ark Angel, as Luke had called it, but it was a different room to the one they'd woken up in. Vader had thrown them in here earlier after his little speech and locked the door. "It's ridiculous. It defies logic. It-"

"Feels true," Luke finished quietly, staring at the ground., rubbing the stump of his wrist. It had been patched up with bacta, and there was talk of getting him a prosthetic, but Leia was still incensed Vader had cut it off in the first place.

Something squeezed her heart. "Luke. . ." She sat down on the mat next to him, and touched his arm. "He's not your father." He's not the father you've hero-worshipped. Don't let him kill your dreams.

"Leia," he said, "it feels true."

She retracted her hand. "What do you mean?"

"I mean. . ." He took a ragged breath. "I know it's true. The same way I knew to turn off the targeting computer over the Death Star, the same way I know we're siblings. . . He's our father." He gave a bitter laugh, then gestured to the datapad lying on the other side of the room, where she'd thrown it. Repeatedly. "He even gave us test results to prove it."

"Which can be faked," she said curtly, but she didn't really believe it. Against her better judgement, everything was coming back. All the times her father had shown reluctance at letting her go to Coruscant, the tension in his shoulders when he'd been in contact with Vader, the way he'd asked her, once, to never, ever, talk to the man without telling him first. . .

Luke lifted his head to look at her. "You don't think we're twins?"

"No, I do, I-" She broke off, swallowing. Because she did. She knew that was true, with the same intuition she'd always known when someone was lying, back in the Senate. "I do. I know that's true. And it explains a lot."

A small smile tugged at his lips. Thank goodness. "It does."

"But- I just." She took a deep breath. "Bail Organa was my father, in all the ways that matter. Anakin Skywalker was yours. That monstrosity," she jabbed a finger at the door, "has no claim on us. Especially if he doesn't have the honesty to call himself by his real name."

"I know that, Leia," he said. "But it doesn't change how I feel."

Her hand fell to her side. When she spoke, it was in a neutral, measured tone. "And how do you feel?"

Luke swallowed several times. He couldn't quite meet her eye as he said, "I want to accept his offer."

She stood up. "You want to turn traitor?!"

"No." The way he said it calmed her slightly; he was vehement enough that she knew he was telling the truth.

But it wasn't enough. "So, you want to accept his offer of forsaking the Alliance, overthrowing the Emperor, and ruling the galaxy as a family, and that's not treason?"

"I want to accept part of his offer," he amended. "I want to overthrow the Emperor."

"And have yourself or Vader replace him. Rule the galaxy as father and son."

"I don't want the galaxy!" he shouted. She took a step back, shocked at the increase in volume. She hadn't realised he was that close the snapping.

"Then what do you want?" she pushed further, further, trying to get to the bottom of this.

He said it quietly, half to himself, and brought his knees up to his chin as he said it. "I want a father."

All the anger drained out of her. She sighed. "Luke. . ."

"We could still cooperate with the Alliance while doing it," he barrelled on. "You could go back to High Command and keep chipping away, keep his attention diverted, while Vader and I plot to cut off the head of the snake."

Vader, Luke called him. Despite his words, he couldn't quite bring himself to call him Father just yet.

Leia folded her arms, suddenly cold. "And what about after? How do you know he'll give the galaxy to the Alliance after the Emperor's dead? That he won't just seize power for himself?"

"He won't seize it for himself," Luke said confidently, but his voice still shook. For a moment, Lei wondered why he was pretending to be fine - why he was pretending that he wasn't just barely holding himself together. "You heard him. He wants to give it to one of us."

"Your point? That's still a dictatorship."

"We overthrow the Emperor," Luke said. "Give you the title of Empress. Then you can set about making all the changes you want to make, only now you'll have the political power to do it. Then you, with all your political experience, can slowly bring back the Senate, reinstate democracy, dissolve the powers of the governors and yourself. Prosecute those guilty of corruption. Your last act could be reinstating the Republic and resigning as Empress."

Leia took a deep breath. She still didn't like the idea of Luke being that close to Vader, but. . . She liked the outcome. She couldn't deny that she was frustrated with how slowly democracy could work, or how little political figures were able to do about the thriving underworld and the suffering it caused - Enfys Nest's bad of marauders being an example of the only forms of reformation that had been happening. And as Empress, she could make all the changes she wanted. . .all at the same time as bringing back the Republic she was fighting for.

She sighed. "Fine." Then she jabbed a finger in his face. "But I'm going back to the Alliance."

Luke grinned. "That's great, then," he said. "All that's left now is to convince Vader."

"You are not going back to the Alliance."

Luke could feel the indignation bristling off of Leia. He held his breath, closed his eyes, and counted upwards. One, two, three-

"Says who?" Leia asked in a silky voice.

Vader leaned forwards in the pilot's seat and jabbed a finger at her. "You are mine, and I will not allow you to return to that pathetic excuse for a Rebellion."

Even Luke was getting defensive at that, but Leia. . .

Well.

Leia was apoplectic.

"I do not belong to you," she hissed, jabbing her finger at him, "nor do I belong with you, at your side, or on your side. I belong with the Alliance." She jerked her chin at Luke. "We both do."

He nodded his agreement.

"You both belong at my side," Vader spat back, "as you would have been had Kenobi and Organa not kidnapped you."

"Kidnapped?" Leia's voice quietened suddenly, and Luke was, inexplicably, terrified. "I'm sure. Certainly, I'm sure they weren't just trying to keep safe two children whose mother had just died, and whose father might as well have. In fact, I recognised the name Padmé Amidala when you told us," she added. Luke's muscles went tight with foreboding; Vader seemed to have frozen solid at the name. "I racked my brain trying to remember. Queen and Senator of Naboo? I've studied her in politics."

"Do not speak of her," Vader growled, but Luke knew he wasn't the only one who heard the pang of sadness in his voice. Leia barrelled on, using it.

"And do you know what I remember?" she continued, her voice passive aggressive. "She died pregnant, didn't she? Supposedly, at least. It was made into a propaganda ploy by the Empire, wasn't it? Because she'd been killed by a Jedi."

Luke sucked in a breath. Killed by-

By a Jedi?

"But it wasn't a Jedi who killed her, was it?" Leia said, voice deadly soft. "It was you."

Vader was silent for one, two, three cycles of his respirator.

Then the already-crushed co-pilot's chair was wrenched off the floor and flung at the viewport. Luke flinched reflexively, even as he got the feeling that Vader was taking great pains not to hit them.

Sure enough, the man said exactly that into the silence that followed it, feeling the tension in the room rise: "I will not hurt you."

Luke made to clench his right fist, except, of course, it wasn't there. "I find that hard to believe."

"As do I," Leia said. "Especially if you're going to make us stay with you. Luke, we've already established, is willing to do so, but I am not. I would sooner die than be held by you, and I will escape anyway."

"I will not allow that to happen," Vader said.

"You can't stop me," Leia bit back. "And the harder you make it for me to escape, the harder it will be for me to escape alive." Vader stilled at the word. Luke could sense him caving, feel his resolve weaken at the concept - possessive or not, he did not want them dead - but it was Leia's next words that cemented it.

"And then you'll be at fault for killing Padmé's daughter, just as you're at fault for killing her."

There was a break in Vader's breathing, like he'd had to take a breath out of sync with it. He flinched back slightly at the words.

His own were no less vehement. "I will give you the galaxy-"

"Then give it to me," Leia said. "By all means, give it to me. But I will not spend any more time in your company than I have to. So you can either have two living, estranged children. . .or two dead ones."

Luke shivered at the thought. He couldn't say that he would be willing to follow along with what she proposed, but he would pretend anyway; Vader had to think he would, or this persuasion would never work.

"So, it's your choice, Father," Leia spat the word. "Which will you pick?"

They dropped out of hyperspace less than a day later - above Tatooine, of all places. Vader gave Leia enough credits to hire transport to the Rebel Fleet, and returned her comlink. He also returned Luke's comlink to him while he was at it - "How else are you supposed to contact your sister, and inform her of any changes to the plan? Neither of you have any decent Force training to speak of."

So Leia was left on the sandy surface of the planet where her brother and her father had grown up, and, as she watched the Ark Angel soar out of the atmosphere, she shuddered despite the heat, wondering if she hadn't made a mistake in letting Luke go with Vader.

Leia wouldn't see Luke again for eighteen months - not until Vader deemed Luke well-trained enough to join him in his coup against the Emperor. During that time, the Rebellion gathered their resources, even as Vader was promoted to Commander of the Imperial Fleet and gathered his, until the time was right, whereupon they struck.

Vader was briefing Sidious on the details of the sudden influx in Rebel attacks when the old man suddenly started choking, choking, choking, only to have a blue lightsaber thrust through him from behind. It had taken Luke and Vader some effort to defeat the Red Guards after that, but they'd managed.

And Palpatine's Empire didn't last another eighteen months after his death.

Leia was a ruthless Empress. War criminals were put on trial, and many were executed or imprisoned for life. Vader was let off with a slightly lighter sentence of being exiled from the Core and Inner Rim, due to the new humanitarian efforts he had partaken in (after Luke persuaded him to) during the three years since Vrogas Vas.

The Empress formally resigned her post after those three years, having already reinstated the Senate, fired most of the regional governors, and introduced new laws to improve the quality of life for most beings in the galaxy.

And so, the Empire fell.