Six hours, thirty-seven minutes, and eighteen seconds after she was locked in the cell, the door opens again. Two Inquisitors (maybe the same ones?) recuff her hands, rebag her head, and escort her to an interrogation room. Leia is sat down into a heavy steel chair that's bolted to the floor and her cuffs are attached to a table of similar construction in front of her. The wall she faces is mirrored silver, and she can examine her own reflection if she pleases. On the table is a steaming bowl of what smells uncannily like her favorite soup, with a spoon already in it. The Inquisitors leave the room, shutting the door behind them.

She doesn't suppose she can reach the spoon (or her mouth), can she? 

She has enough slack that she can raise her hands easily to her mouth. Getting the spoon, well, if she stretches as far as she can, straining the chains and her arms to their utmost length-

She can just barely not reach the bowl, fingers swiping through the air without brushing the sides.

She measures that, carefully, then methodically tests the rest of her range of motion. 

(She wouldn't eat the soup anyways. If she could reach it, it'd probably be poisoned. But, useful information to know about what game they're playing.)

After it becomes clear that she's not going to try to get the soup closer to her, the Inquisitors return. They take turns between being the one standing in front of her asking questions and the one pacing around the room behind her. Their questions are a mix of things about her public record as Senator, her personal history, her travels and "charitable outreach organizations" and odd bits of trivia or galactic history or philosophy just to keep her on her toes.

Her answers are wholly appropriate for a well-educated Senator from a Core world, who sincerely believes she's here inappropriately, who's patient at times and hot-headed at others, convinced in the rightness of her laws and naively believing in the protection offered to her by her place of privilege. A Senator with small things to hide, but nothing worse than some petty skimming off this or that budget for personal reasons - far more restrained than many of her colleagues, just a minor weakness for expensive jewelry and pretty artwork. Someone with a genuine desire to help others, who would have been rare in the Republic Senate, and is rarer yet in the Imperial Senate - but whose definition of help isn't too divorced from the party line. Close enough she can and often does swallow her disagreements out of practicality. And Alderaan has a tradition of charitable firebrands for Senators - she's honestly relatively restrained.

A Senator whose patience, being only human, is starting to fray with the inane questions. 

Perhaps she's getting hungry. Maybe she'd like some soup.

She would prefer to be released. 

Not going to happen. The questioning continues for another hour and a half.

When she's returned to her cell, there's ration bar waiting for her on the floor, already unwrapped.

She ignores it, instead stretching out on the bench and quickly falling asleep.

(Her shields may be very good, but Inquisitor HQ isn't exactly the most serene environment. Her dreams will be... troubled, at the least.)

She'd somehow rolled onto her front at some point, which is... Good. 

It helps hide the tears she wakes up with, though her eyes are still damnably red, and her cheeks still a little wet when she lifts her face. 

She will want to hide that weakness quickly, as today's agenda is... less subtle than yesterday's. Involving less subtle aggravation and temptations and a lot more pain.

By the time anyone comes to get her - she's calm and collected, like this is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. No less routine than a traffic stop.

And she doesn't break character once through the torture. Doesn't reach for the Force, even to comfort herself. Even to sustain herself. She's strong, and doesn't break easily - but she still acts wholly normal. 

An impressive level of composure.

But the Inquisitor who initially noticed something off about her is still convinced that Leia is Force-sensitive, even though that haven't been able to squeeze out any proof. They're sure enough, in fact, to escalate this.

The Emperor's time is valuable, but so is this target. They'll take the punishment if they turn out to be wrong.

Not, of course, that any of this is communicated to Leia.

And pretty soon after the Emperor confirms -

Senator Organa looks up, gaze distant and nervous, and then she stands - paces briefly in the room - 

And then turns to the door, flexes her wrists - and shoves -

The door tears free from the wall with a metal screech and goes flying down the hallway. She's out immediately after it, running with enhanced - albeit clumsy - speed for the exit. 

The guards on this level are droids. Droids have the advantage of faster reflex times than organic beings, not needing to press a physical button to trigger the alarm, blaster rifles and other weaponry integrated into their chassis, not getting bored of guard duty, and not being vulnerable to mind tricks. One can also, if one is willing to budget in the charging stations, keep more droids at the ready than are actually "on-duty".

Disadvantages of droids include: it is much easier to telekinetically toss a droid around than an organic being of equivalent size.

Much easier to slam them into walls hard enough they break. 

She keeps moving, blasting through any doors - or on two occasions walls - in her way -

But not for the exit. Instead, Leia's feet take her nearly unerringly to the generator and the small reactor core freeing the headquarters and prison from the tenuous unreliability of Coruscant's power grid. 

'You sure about this?'

'It will work,' whispers that soft voice in her head. 'You've already been noticed. You need to make the problem bigger than you.'

Unhappy frown as she blasts her way into a turbolift shaft and jumps down. (This is... Not something she's very practiced at. She slightly runs into the wall.) 'And we can't spare more resources.'

'No. Maybe once you're out, if the disruption is big enough...'

Ugh. 'Got it.'

She punches her way into a lower hallway, sprints down that - and reaches the generator room. 

A flash of insight prompts her to jerk back right before she can blast this door open too, and a humming blood-red blur flashes across the space where her arm would have been.

The Inquisitor the lightsaber belongs to arrives very quickly after that, lightsabers being effective tools for removing walls as well as arms, and the blade snaps back into their hand. They level it menacingly at Leia.

...Force shove?