The Imperial Menace, epilogue
Oct. 3rd, 2012 09:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anghraineAlso, the entire fic is at AO3 here.
title: The Imperial Menace (8/8)
verse: Lucy
EPILOGUE: VADER
Palpatine, though he would undoubtedly have preferred it if Vader had produced a son and not a daughter, was not fool enough to turn away a loyal and compliant servant with Lucy's now-unparalleled power. His tolerance would run short, however, at any weakness, any defiance. Lucy must be wholly turned before she came before the Emperor. For the benefit of any spies, Vader had called her the Emperor's prize, but he had no intention of taking her to Imperial Center.
Vader's first priority was taking her captive and turning her to the Dark Side. That, he suspected, would require considerable isolation, and considerable attention on his part. Anything else must take second place. It was almost a pity; he would have liked to test her skills before pinning all his hopes on her. Never mind; he had felt her strength in the Force, as great as his own had once been. All else could be taught.
As he waited for his daughter, he thought back to the information he had received on her. Her strong attachments would be the greatest obstacle, when it came time to turn her, but for now they gave Vader an enormous advantage. They made her vulnerable, as they had once made Anakin Skywalker vulnerable.
He kept his mind alert, attuned to everything that went on around him. This last stage of his plan, he could tell, was proceeding according to schedule. The princess' rage and panic thrummed against his mind, standing out, crisp and sharp, from the others all around her. Vader was convinced anew that the Force was with her. Only slightly, in all probability, but enough to explain the strength of her mind—both now and when she had resisted his mind probe two years ago.
Vader's sensors caught the soft thud of boots before his ears did. His daughter was here. With a thought, he sent the doors slamming shut behind her, and then closed off any other avenue of escape. There were a few more soft footsteps. Then a platform rose, just below him, and a small, lean girl emerged out of the steam. Strands of fair hair curled around her pale face; though kept impractically long, the rest was braided back, and unlikely to cause her any serious disadvantage.
She had her mother's slight build; he didn't know if he were disappointed by it or—not. His height had often been a great advantage to him, but Padmé, he distantly remembered, had been well-served by her speed and maneuverability on several occasions.
Lucy took a few quick, light steps towards him. Yes: that was Padmé. And now he could make out her expression—a flicker of fear, replaced with fury. Excellent.
His features and his wife's mingled in her face: more of his, he thought impartially. She lifted burning blue eyes up—yes, those certainly had come straight from him—and holstered her blaster, pulling out her lightsaber.
Or rather, his lightsaber.
Vader smiled behind his mask. She carried the weapon with tolerable ease, but she could not possibly know it as well as he did. Even as she walked up the steps, her breath almost as audible as his own, he could see a number of weaknesses in her form. And her grasp on the handle was far too tight for that particular weapon; it had been designed for a looser grip from a larger hand.
“The Force is with you, young Skywalker,” he told her, “but you are not a Jedi yet.”
She lit the lightsaber. Vader instantly ignited his own and repelled her first attack—solid, he thought, though the angle was slightly off. She swung at him again, then to his amusement, took a distinctly aggressive position, raining reasonably well-placed blows on him. Vader decided he could afford this small test, as long as it took them towards the carbon-freezer.
“You have learned much, young one,” he said.
Lucy glared at him from under lowered brows. Another familiar expression.
“You'll find I'm full of surprises,” she told him. It was the first time he had heard her speak, he thought idly—her voice was clear, a little lower and much sharper than Padmé's. In response, Vader lunged at her, and with a twist of his sword, sent Lucy's flying. He permitted his lightsaber to slash near her feet; she sprang back, rolling down the platform.
“Your destiny lies with me,” Vader said persuasively. It would really be much better if she came of her own volition. “Obi-Wan knew this to be true.”
She was already shaking her head. “No!”
Force it would have to be, then. He mentally lifted the elevator cover behind her and pressed forward, forcing her to step back. Vader ventured another bold attack towards her, as close as he dared, and she sprang backwards, falling into the carbon-freezer. Well, that had been easy enough. He was almost disappointed.
“Perhaps you are not as strong as the Emperor thought,” he said aloud. He sent the materials pouring into the freezer—and Lucy leapt upwards, fifteen feet in the air, climbing up a swinging cable. Vader smiled, pleased.
“Impressive,” he said. “Most impressive. Unfortunately, it will do you no good.”
Lucy jumped down, to the other side of the carbonite pit, and summoned the blue lightsaber to her hand.
“I have all your friends held captive,” he informed her. “Captain Solo has already been handed over to an agent of Jabba the Hutt.” He took care to keep any distaste out of his voice. “Princess Leia, the Wookiee, and the droids are being held on my ship. They are of little interest to me, except as hostages for your good behaviour.”
Lucy, little more than an outline through the blue smoke, froze. “My good behaviour,” she repeated.
“If you allow yourself to be frozen in carbonite,” he said, “they will not be harmed further, provided that their own behaviour does not provoke any unfortunate responses. You cannot possibly kill me, and if you escape, they will be executed. You have proven your value. Now their fate is in your hands, Lucy.”
Some of the fog cleared away. Lucy's face was sickly in the blue light of the lightsaber; if she had noticed his lapse into her given name, she did not show it. But then, Vader allowed, she had rather greater concerns at the moment.
“You'll just execute them anyway,” she said, the blade shaking slightly.
“No—not when their lives can assure your continued compliance,” said Vader. It was true enough, though he sensed some vague disturbance beyond them. “Your feelings would tell you if they were dead.” He allowed her another few seconds, then said, the menace in his voice deepening, “Choose quickly, Skywalker.”
Lucy gave a bleak laugh. “What choice?” she said, and turned off her lightsaber.
Vader allowed his voice to gentle, very slightly. “There may be pain, but it will not kill you. The process has already been tested on a human subject.”
“Han,” said Lucy, shuddering. She took a few more steps forward. He could see her clearly now; she looked very small and very young. She licked her lip and glanced down. “You promise you won't kill them?”
“Yes,” said Vader.
She crouched down, setting her weapon aside—sensible; he had not tested the carbonite's effect on lightsabers, after all—then jumped down in one graceful leap. He could see her shivering in the pit.
Vader felt another flicker of discomfort, which he ignored. He activated a new burst of carbonite; it flooded the chamber, obscuring Lucy from sight. He heard one high scream.
When the smoke cleared, his daughter was a slab of carbonite.
THE END
Cloud City duel (1) by sweetestremedy
This is one where I particularly liked the backgrounds - the Cloud City duel really is so much about atmosphere and drenched in blues and oranges that I had no idea how she'd do it, but I loved how it ended up both like and unlike ESB.
Cloud City duel (2) by sweetestremedy
My favourite after the portrait! Eh, I'm really into faces, and I love her expression here, especially around the eyes. I really like the effect of the lightsabers in paint, too.