Fortress Vader

Prologue - Her

As I turned back to the door, I saw one of his leather journals in his hand. I was still thinking about this fact as I returned to our quarters, feeling as if I was in a daze. Sometime along my walk, two of the alarms went quiet, leaving just one loud, repetitive sound. An evacuation warning.

If I had known that would be the last time I saw my father, I would have never left. Whatever his fate, it would have taken me, too. Instead, the complex spent almost two days in that mayhem.

By the end of day two, it had begun to calm, but I still hadn't heard from my father. It was the longest I'd ever gone without him. So, I left my room, despite him telling me to stay.

I saw faces I knew, but no one really looked at me. The ones who did, their expressions showed pity. I knew the look well enough; I saw it before that day. The quiet girl, stuck on Mustafar with her genius father. The shadow who was always next to him, silently reading or watching.

They did not speak to me. I went to his lab; it was empty. I went to his office, the second largest one in the city complex, and it was empty. I walked the perimeter, searched the control room. I probably looked in every corner that day. I looked for Father's partner, Doctor Telle, in his lab and office. Nothing. I searched for his assistant, but she was nowhere to be found.

So, I did what I was best at: I listened.

Tambor, the head of the Techno Union, was indeed dead. The entire Separatist leadership was. Something had occurred there on Mustafar, leaving the electricity spotty and, apparently, the Klegger Corp Mining Facility destroyed. The war was over. It went on and on, rumors and facts blending until I wasn't sure what was real.

What was I to believe? Some of it didn't add up, like the Jedi Order betraying the Republic. I wasn't a politician or an expert in war or Jedi, but they were supposed to be peacekeepers. Father believed they would make the galaxy right again, one day. Even more unbelievable? The rumor that the Jedi had been eliminated. It was almost laughable.

I couldn't pull up the HoloNews or use the consoles for anything because I wasn't a Techno Union employee. I possessed no access codes. There was no way for me to verify the outlandish claims.

On the third evening, I climbed up the rickety service ladder I had discovered years earlier, emerging onto the roof of the complex center. The heat of Mustafar was not something one ever got used to, in my opinion. Its atmosphere was type II, which meant if I didn't wear a mask, I'd likely begin to feel sick after ten minutes or so. It reminded me of altitude sickness—not that I could remember what that felt like. How many years had it been since I last climbed the mountains of my home?

It was there, standing on the roof, that I realized more people had fled than I thought, the landing pads almost empty. As I watched a shuttle take off, I knew my window of escape was closing.

I could hitch a ride with someone, especially if I offered to help out. I wouldn't be leaving my father, however. He was likely dead, I knew. Father would have never willingly left me behind. But if there was any chance he was alive, the complex was where he would look for me, so it was where I would stay.

My father was a secret weapon for the Techno Union, which meant we were protected from the Clone Wars, in a way. We were not allowed near any sort of battle lines. Or should I say, my father wasn't. I was just the invisible entity by his side. A nobody by design.

He taught me things, but the biggest lesson, one I lived by, was to keep quiet. To be noticed was to dance with death. Father never hid his genius, and it attracted Wat Tambor. My mother left one day and never came back, and I would not learn until I was a teenager that Tambor had killed her.

We came to Mustafar when I was ten years old. It was two years after Mama disappeared, and I had begged Father to let us stay on Chandrila. What if she came home, and we were gone?

But Father, with his deep, permanent purple bags under his eyes and the hunch he'd developed, knew she wasn't coming home.

I cried when I first saw the planet. I was raised around beauty and grace in the endless fields of Chandrila, and there before me were angry, loud lava pits and equally angry and loud people and droids.

I didn't cry then, though, some seven or eight years later.

The white armored clones came exactly one week after father disappeared, ripping through the Techno Union complex. Now, two stood before me, drilling me.

"What do you mean you're not employed here?" Even without seeing his face, I could read him.

He was angry. He had a straightforward mission: Clear out the labs. I was a blip, an oddity, a glitch in the system. I was an unexpected speed bump in his conquest.

I was seventeen, maybe eighteen. We hadn't celebrated my birthday since mother threw me an eighth name-day party, and it had been so long since I thought about my age, I just wasn't sure anymore. The weeks ran together on Mustafar. Some days I felt ancient. But, last I asked Father, I wasn't old enough to be employed there.

"My father was an engineer." No need to tell him what kind. "But I think he's dead." I should have felt something saying those words, and maybe I didn't because I did not yet believe them. Regardless, the soldier reacted as expected.

"Then why are you still here?" A tiny tinge of empathy slipped through his modulated voice, but not much. Thankfully.

Look around you, I wanted to snap. If I'd wanted to steal a ship—which I absolutely didn't—there were none left. Those wiser than me already fled. What was left was mostly droids.

"I have nowhere to go."

If I could see his face, I would have expected pity. For all I knew, he had no face.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with you?" he growled, but I suppose he wasn't speaking to me because he turned and stormed off.

They were there for three days, and I remained in my room the entire time, digging into my rations stash. Another one entered on day three, took one look at me, and left.

It must have been a final sweep because the complex went quiet then. Not knowing what to do with me, they simply left me, as I'd hoped.

It was easy enough to survive on my own. The rations already had a long shelf life, as we didn't eat much fresh food on Mustafar. It didn't last, the heat practically cooked anything left out. It was simply a matter of collecting it throughout the endless compound and storing it from the rodents and elements.

The complex was completely locked down, thankfully, because Mustafar was full of life, despite looking dead. And the creatures were brutal. The electricity was gone by week three except in the center, where it was generated from lava activity. Slowly, I moved what I needed there, turning it into my workshop, living space, medical bay, kitchen, whatever I needed.

And as it turned out, I got lucky. Most working droids were taken by the Republic, but I knew how to fix things, thanks to Father. So, within a month, I had eleven droids up and running. The silver and faded red astromech was the twelfth droid.

It whirred to life and I waited, a little unsure of myself suddenly. But when the Binary "Oh, hello!" chirped from the blue and orange astromech, I laughed. It was the first time I'd laughed in...well, a long time.

"What's your name?" I asked as I sat on the floor, crossing my legs before it.

AN13, she answered. I wasn't sure if ever met a droid with a feminine programming. How fascinating.

"So, like Annie?" She beeped excitedly and spun around once, causing me to laugh again. "Okay, how would you like to be my assistant?" A confirmation rang out before she backed up to examine the room.

And that's how I got here, isolated in an abandoned science facility with a droid friend and no idea what I'm going to do.