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Leia jumped inside, shaking. The door hissed opened as rapidly as blaster fire. Two Imperial Stormtrooper guards stepped in, heads lowered, and stood at attention at either side of the opening, blasters held at the ready in both hands. Breathing, strong, constant, yet as artificial as the breath of a dying man on a respirator, met her ears. Vader, The Emperor's Right Hand, the incarnation of evil, a dark angel of death and vengeance, descended the steps and entered the cell, nearly bending halfway over to avoid bumping his head. He stood erect, fists on his hips, cape hanging behind him, rustling slightly. His eyes, empty red globes, stared at her, like the unyielding gaze of a predatory animal about to strike. Dark power emanated from him, like a malevolent presence that followed him wherever he went. A power that might swallow her life in moments. I am Princess of Alderaan. If I am to die, I will die on my feet. Leia rose, forcing her shaking knees to still. Her hands hung limp at her sides. She swallowed and set her jaw, holding her chin high. "Come to finish the job?" Vader spoke as though he hadn't heard her. His voice was a deep rumble, like thunder. "Grand Moff Tarkin awaits your presence on the bridge."
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