Happy May the 4th be with you!

? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ?

"The first round is very simple," Lord Vader began to explain, "There are forty-three of you here; the last twenty standing will be allowed to proceed. For the newcomers, you will fight against myself. If you last five minutes, congratulations... You are one step closer to becoming an Inquisitor."

The participants remained quiet. Syrena shifted, longing for a weapon in her hand. Fight her master? Her eyes locked onto the figure beside Leia and Vader. She looked dignified and her body burned with anger in the Force. Yet she was weak. Why was she here? Weaklings should be eliminated. Like her people. They didn't have the Force to protect them... so they fell.

"No one passed last year's round. I hope this time the Inquisitors' candidates are not such an utter disgrace." The respirator hissed. "You may begin."

A sharpened, wooden staff guided by multiple arms shot towards her with deadly speed. A warning allowed her to shift to the side and the tip grazed her forehead. Blood began to drip into her eyes. The Force screamed at her and she stepped out of the way of a blaster bolt. Her eyesight filled with red.

She wiped her forehead and stared at her bloodstained hand.

Her hands felt sticky and she saw her home again; the troopers mowing down her people in a storm of blaster fire. They bled out on the ground, the blood caking in the dry air. A brutish force pushed past her shoulders and she felt the world swing as her knees collided with the ground, tearing the frail skin. Her head rang.

Blood.

Someone was on top of her, snarling... angry. She couldn't make out their face as the elbow pressed into her windpipe, cutting off the flow of crucial oxygen. She lifted her hands desperately, weakly. Surely, she wouldn't die here. Hadn't she said she wouldn't leave Leia alone? But Leia was with her master, it didn't matter. She obviously had his favor and there was no reason to be concerned for her. After all, what could a weakling like her do?

Give up.

Black spots hovered in her field and suddenly the body shifted and she gasped. Sweet air filled her lungs. Her hands were searching, exploring, desperately grasping her opponent's tunic to find some leverage. The weight slammed into her again and she grasped a cold object. They were pinning her, head high above, out of range from her hands and her fingers closed around the cylinder.

A fist swung towards her head. The body fell to the side.

Drip... drip...

The arm felt heavy as it lay limply on top of her. She felt cold, her sweat clung to her skin and she stared at her opponent as his blood mingled with her own.

Dead?

Are they dead?

All dead...

Traitors gone... forever.

Her stomach heaved. The roar of neighboring fights rushed through her ears and pushed against her, reminding her of the danger. They were still all there: running, screaming... killing. She had killed. Pushing herself onto her knees, she searched for a pulse. A sign of life. None. Perhaps they were still alive? The neck? A pulse? Please... Nothing...

The Force! She reached out towards it, trying to discern life. Nothing... They were dead... A blaster bolt hit the ground near her and she pushed herself on her feet. Her heart hammered in her chest and she slowly unclenched her jaw. She hadn't noticed gritting her teeth. A knife glistened in her opponent's side... Just as she hadn't noticed wielding the knife with devastating consequences.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, oblivious to the commotion surrounding her. "I meant... you were... Protecting my face... it was an accident. Please... Please..." She glanced away. "Force, what have I done?"

The Force was quiet. A bell rang. Over... done...

She looked around and surveyed the battlefield. Twenty people stood... somehow, she was among them. 102 stared impassively surrounded by others, dead. Some competitors hung in the back, seemingly shaken as she was to discover themselves standing. Not all the bodies on the floor were dead, the Force clung to them. People were strong.

A deep breath. Breathe. In. Out. Breathe. Her heart rate slowed and she could hear the Force again as she let it drag her in to consume her guilt. Leia's shock and anger resonated deeply. Was it because of what she had done? Of the life she had ended? Leia... She didn't seem like the type to kill. Would they still be friends?

Her eyes drifted upwards, glancing at the small figure dwarfed by Lord Vader's large frame. Lord Vader's helmet tilted and he looked down at her, a dark force pushing against her. She trembled and lowered her head in deference. He was her master... She had to be loyal... Leia didn't matter; not if she wanted to survive this. She looked up anyway. Her eyes tracked Leia and her braided hair as it drifted in the warm breeze. Despite it, Syrena was cold.

Low and thundering his voice silenced their murmuring. "My turn," stated Lord Vader. It felt as if he pronounced a death sentence; she flinched backwards. It saved her life.

The crescent arc cut through the air in front of her. The Force was his, and it felt as if the very air obeyed Lord Vader's command. It pressed down upon her and his hand swept out, fingers splayed and the red tinted lenses of the helmet stared at her. A blast of the Force crushed all the hopefuls against the wall and any chance of survival flickered out.

Pain—short, abrupt—suddenly crashed into her system. She registered her head first, the dull headache and the searing pain behind her eyes. Then the burning and stabbing in her chest. Broken. Something felt wrong about her hand. Her eyes wandered down, somehow already knowing what she would find.

Gone.

Her hand was gone. She dry heaved. Her hand was gone.

Tears blurred her vision. Syrena forced herself to stand up, against the oppressive weight of the air. Her right hand hurt. It shouldn't hurt. It was gone. Why was it hurting? She fell back down to the ground and her left hand curled around the knife. Useless. What could she do against Lord Vader?

The dark presence strode forward and she lifted her head off the ground. Through the tears in her vision, she could see 102 sneaking in the back. Assassin. The Force returned, screaming at her in warning. Too loud. Leia was in danger. She desperately clutched the knife in her hand. The Force burned within her.

No. He wouldn't take Leia away from her.

Righteous anger filled her. The Force obeyed her eagerly as she stood. It urged her to let go. Promised power. That didn't matter. She would kill 102 for trying to take Leia away.

His body fell, a knife piercing his chest, and blood slowly seeping into the ground.

102's shaky hand grasped the knife as he futilely pulled at it. From across the room, he stared at her with loathing. Lord Vader paused and his head turned, the light glancing off his helmet. She could feel him staring up at Leia and then his gaze dropped down on 102. A surge of anger exploded from him in the Force and Syrena quailed as he strode away.

102's mouth moved, but her master continued on regardless.

She knew he was pleading, begging, but the roar in her ears drowned out all sound. Glancing up, she caught Leia's eyes. Was she proud of Syrena?

The red lightsaber ignited to extinguish the faint light in the Force. It was over.

And now Lord Vader was coming back, his gloved hands wrapping around her skinny arms, and hauling her to her feet. He was speaking, but she couldn't make out the swords. Everything was too loud.

The other contestants left, filing out, just as shaken as she felt. The Force was buzzing and pounding in her ears. But Leia was alive. Now the third companion, a young woman with brown hair with her hand curled on Leia's shoulder was shouting. Leia just stood by the side, her eyes occasionally flicking to Syrena.

Terrified, Syrena reached out to the Force, through Lord Vader's maelstrom and brushed against Leia's wonderful, beautiful light.

Are you alright?

The light curled around her tendrils, soothing and whispered reassurances. Everything was fine. Syrena closed her eyes, basking in the warmth as her heart rate began to calm and the angry words filtered through the buzzing in her ear.

"If you must resort to blatant intimidation against me Lord Vader, do not traumatize Leia. She's a child," the woman said.

"You will take care of how you speak to me. My patience for your games wears thin. Do not forget who makes the rules here."

"I was to be Leia's guardian, Vader. Your little Empire supplanted my right."

"The Emperor has publicly declared her as mine. Your visitation depends on my goodwill now. you have no room to bargain."

"And is this what you intend for Leia! To become one of your blood thirsty agents. This show of yours is abuse. An animal deserves better, yet, you're throwing children into the ring!"

Syrena's brow furrowed. She did not understand the fight. Why were they arguing? Vader was the Master. That was the rule. The law. Reaching through the Force, she brushed against Leia's Force signature again. Leia's eyes flashed over her and Syrena basked in the feelings of relief. Everything would be alright. She had survived. Leia had helped her survive.

Dark tendrils, just like before tore through her probes and the gloved hand curled shot forward, curling around her neck. "You."

Syrena reached up, trying to pry loose the hand. What had she done? She had succeeded in the trials. Why was Lord Vader angry? Why had he fixated on her?

Lord Vader's tendrils—the ones she was now recognizing as his—swarmed protectively over Leia, before tearing through her mind. Her master was furious and tears slid down her face as he tossed memory after memory aside.

Threat, it whispered. Destroy.

A Force shove pushed the woman away, as she stepped forward to intervene. Syrena fell to the ground as Lord Vader dropped her. His lightsaber, once again ignited, pointed at her throat.

"Why were you doing that?" he rumbled.

Her eyes darted back to Leia, standing still, but shock and horror clearly visible on her face. It was the wrong thing to do as the Force ensnared her body and lifted her into the air. A small pressure on her windpipe, warned her of possible consequences.

"Stop looking at her," Lord Vader warned. "Why do you keep reaching out to her?"

"Warm," Syrena choked out.

Lord Vader snarled and she could feel the pressure around her throat tightening.

"Father no!" Leia screamed, flinging herself forward, and hanging from his arm. "She's my friend."

Syrena fell to the ground as Lord Vader turned around, hissing, "What?"

Leia had called him her father... but that didn't make sense. Syrena shook her head, not understanding. That was impossible. Had everything been a lie?

As Lord Vader stalked toward Leia who took a shaking step back, Syrena reacted on instinct and threw herself between them. It wasn't possible for Leia to be his daughter. It had to be a distraction, an attempt to divert their master's attention. She knelt and desperately cried, "I'm sorry Master," for whatever crime she had committed.

"She knows Leia. No one is supposed to know," Vader hissed, ignoring Syrena's prone body before him.

"Father, just listen!"

She was still calling him father. It had to be a lie, there was no way it could be true. But as Lord Vader reached out and cupped Leia's cheek, she could feel the truth in the Force. A sense of betrayal bore down on her. Leia had lied, not to their master, but to Syrena. Vader wasn't Leia's master, but... her father.

Lord Vader spoke softly, as he stared down at her daughter. "137 lies and hides her abilities. She is a threat to your safety and knows too much. It is for the best."

"Please don't," Leia cried, tears streaming down her face. "I taught her."

It wasn't fair that Leia had her master's attention and his protection. Syrena had worked hard, suffered, yet Leia continued to live free. It had to be because she was powerful... and Syrena was weak.

"Don't you feel the jealousy in her heart. She is not your friend and will turn on you."

Leia's eyes watered and Syrena flinched as Leia stared at her and her warm presence brushed against Syrena's, confirming the truth.

"I will end this," Lord Vader intoned and he turned around, staring down at her like a worm beneath his feet.

She was ready to die. Leia didn't need her. Their relationship was built on a lie. Perhaps... Perhaps she would see her parents again. They had betrayed her as well, but in the moment, facing death, she felt her heart yearn for their warm embrace. There was no warmth anymore.

She was ready.

The pressure around her throat returned and slowly, she was raised into the air, scrambling for footing, and trying to breathe.

She was not ready.

"I'll never forgive you," Leia hissed, and she appeared before Syrena, staring Lord Vader down, her back straight.

Why was she saving Syrena? Syrena was weak, worthless... nothing compared to Leia, yet she stood before Lord Vader, her voice firm and unwavering.

"You already took everything. I'm just someone to be paraded for your and the Emperor's desire. You never listen. You thrive on pain. And yet you are my father."

"She will stab you in the back!" Vader roared, yet the noose around her neck loosened.

Leia shook her head. "You don't know that."

"I do. Because she isn't loyal. She fears me, but she isn't loyal to me. I have no use for an agent loyal only to themselves. A rogue agent will attempt to eliminate you."

"She has done nothing wrong, yet you would kill her for my mistakes. That isn't justice. And I will never forgive you if you use me to justify your atrocities."

Leia turned, approaching the woman who had been blasted aside by Lord Vader. Syrena fell to the ground, once more. Lord Vader was silent as he watched his daughter leave, his hands curled tightly and his cape moving in a nonexistent breeze.

"You will never be an Inquisitor," he declared. "Make a mistake... and I will kill you. Understood?"

And he left, leaving Syrena on the ground to nurse her wounds and stare at her right hand, or rather the absence of one. Hours later, back in her cell, the door slid open and Leia stepped inside, carrying badges.

"Syrena," she whispered.

"Go!" Syrena screamed as anger surged through her body. Truth and lies had blended together, no longer decipherable from another. "I hate you."

Leia's grief was palpable through the air as she lay the supplies down on the ground and fled the room. Curling into a ball, Syrena rocked herself side to side. It hurt. Tears ran down her face, and she wanted nothing more to run after Leia and apologize. But her limbs refused to move, and she just continued to cry.

I'm sorry.

? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ?

The Tagge family manor was as always a sight to behold. Luther had never stopped to consider it, yet returning home from boarding school, he was forced to pause and think. There was a slight awkward tinge as he considered the blatant wealth on display for all visitors to see. And while he was just part of a minor branch in the Tagge family, all his needs were still taken care of. Money had never been a concern of his and now he was realizing how strange it was.

Leia and her friend, Cindy who relied on a scholarship, couldn't afford this luxury. It made him feel awkward and he grimaced. Before, he would have joined his friend, Cassio, in looking down upon the commoners. They were nothing after all, or so his father had explained. Yet, that no longer felt quite right.

And this self realization was fueled by a single girl: Leia. A blush rose to his cheeks and Luther ducked his head as a servant passed by, hauling his luggage. Leia was radiant and every moment in her presence caused his heart to beat wild. He shouldn't hang out with commoners, as his father would say, but he just couldn't resist.

Despite his best efforts, she never seemed to pay much attention to him. She was nice... and that was her most charming quality. She was nice to everyone, even to those who insulted her to her face. But it made it hard to know if she was being nice because she liked him... or because she hated him.

Life was unfair.

Perhaps he should write a letter? Confess? No. That would be much too brash.

What had that holoflic done? Surely, there was some kernel of wisdom to be found. He couldn't just ask her. She might say no.

Luther groaned.

"Really Luther, that isn't appropriate behavior for the dinner table," his mother reprimanded sharply. "Sit up straight. Shoulders back. Don't you dare and disgrace the Tagge family."

"Please sister, he's just a boy," Uncle Avin, protested. "If he's groaning, then there must be a reason."

Flushing under the inquiring gaze, Luther muttered, "It's nothing."

"Luther!" his mother barked. "Speak clearly. For goodness sake, what are they teaching you at that school. I have been pulling some strings, and we can surely transfer you to some core academy. Then you wouldn't have to deal with such... ruffians."

"No!" Luther shouted. "You can't."

"And why ever not?"

"I have friends there. Lots of friends. I can't leave."

His mother raised a single manicured eyebrow. "I don't remember you being that fond of these friends of yours. And they are hardly befitting of a Tagge."

Luther swallowed and looked back down at his food, grasping the fork. Even if Leia, by some miracle, did like him, nothing would be allowed to come of it. His mother and uncle continued to talk through dinner, oblivious to his pouting. Still, he refused to change academies. They just had to meet her... and surely, even his mother, would change his mind.

Later that evening, sitting on the couch, and mindlessly watching a rather sappy holo, his uncle sat down beside him and offered a bowl of ice cream. "Don't mind your mother. She's been rather stressed these past few weeks. Grandfather is in an uproar regarding the new education bill passing the senate and blames her for not having caught wind of it earlier. She only wants what's best for you."

"Right," Luther grumbled and grabbed the ice cream bowl. Ice cream always made him feel better... and his uncle.

"So you are enjoying your school? Things are finally looking up?" Uncle Avin asked.

"Yeah... It's fun," Tagge said and took another large spoonful of ice cream. His mother would be mortified at his current manners. "Lieutenant Prazak is an interesting teacher.'

"Prazak? Yes. They said he was a genius in tactics. It's good to hear that he can teach those skills as well. Listen to his tutelage."

"Uncle Avin?" Luther asked hesitantly, "Hypothetically, if there was someone not important, but like, super nice and stuff, could we be friends?"

A grin split his uncle's face and he crowed, "You have a crush!"

"Not so loud," Luther hissed and glanced around in panic for his mother.

"Tell me about her. You're still young and as long as it doesn't become serious, you can surely be friends."

It wasn't the denial that he had been expecting and Luther straightened a little as he recalled her petite form. "She's not very tall... but she's wicked with a staff. Best in the class. And she's in Lieutenant Prazak's advanced class as well. She always acts happy and is super nice, even when she's sad." He frowned as he considered the numerous times he had found her wiping tears away before anyone else could see. "I think she's sad a lot."

Uncle Avin hummed and cast a quick glance around the room. "Not everyone has it as easy as we do. It's unfortunate, but there's hardly anything you can do. But you like this girl?"

His cheeks burned and his stomach clenched. "Not like that... maybe. I just don't know what she thinks of me. We talk, but she's nice to everyone. And maybe she actually hates me. How am I supposed to know?"

"Well, you could ask?"

"I can't do that!" Luther shouted and sheepishly waved his hand as a servant stopped to stare at him.

"Well, you can ask her to be friends? With your mother going out tomorrow, you could even invite her over for the break. I'll make sure no one tattles."

"I can't," Luther muttered. "She's always busy each break. Even on the weekends. I think her father is a mechanic for important folks so he takes her along. Sometimes, she leaves school even earlier."

"And what's her name?"

"Leia Japor," Luther whispered. "She just turned twelve... on Empire Day. It must be weird having your birthday then."

"Empire Day," Uncle Alvin muttered, "Perhaps she is a bit more interesting that you give her credit for Luther. A child born on the day our Empire was founded surely has a glorious future ahead of her. Perhaps you wish to buy her a gift?"

Luther bit his lip. Would it seem weird? But his uncle was being somewhat supportive and if he couldn't invite her over, then maybe, he could hint at his affections. She wouldn't accept a gift if she hated him, right? "That sounds good Uncle."

"Of course it can't just be anything," his uncle warned, "or else she'll think you're trying to bribe her. And it should be something you can enjoy together."

"So I'll know if she likes it," Luther whispered in excitement and shot to his feet. "Come on, Uncle Avin. I'm going to find the perfect gift."

His uncle groaned, but let himself be pulled along. "Well, lead the way."

? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ?

Leia returned to school furious with her father. She was grateful to finally have the chance to be free of his overbearing presence controlling every aspect of her life. Because of him, Syrena hated her now. Leia hastily wiped her eyes. She was supposed to be angry, not crying. Anger meant the strength to fight back, but if she allowed herself to grieve for Syrena and her comforting presence that whispered protectiveness, she would never cease to cry.

It was all Vader's fault. He had already taken her dad, her mother, and now even Aunt Sola was being kept at a distance. Because of him, the Emperor took a personal interest in her and she would always have the legacy of the Empire on her head. Imperial Princess. The title was disgusting and unwanted. Unfortunately, abstract things were much harder to tear apart.

Lieutenant Prazak and Petty Officer Piett watched her with concern through her lesson. She knew that the Lieutenant would want to speak with her. She wasn't even bothering hiding her anger and the cowards around her inched away. She could feel their subconscious fear. Any other time, she would have felt sorry. But if she had to suffer, then they could too.

It was only just.

Leia slipped out of the classroom with a slight liberal touch of the Force. Vader's presence reached out to touch her mind, and she flinched back, hiding herself. He had refused to talk earlier and see reason. He had reacted with violence. She wasn't giving him the opportunity to rectify that mistake now.

Cindy, her dear friend approached her, "Leia? Are you alright?"

"Of course not," she snapped back.

Cindy's face fell. "Is there anything I can do? Leia, please. Talk to me. Or Lieutenant Prazak. He worries about you. We can help you."

"No you can't," Leia declared with condemning finality and ignored the twinge of guilt. What could any of them do against her fath—, no Vader. "Just leave me alone. That's what you really want to do. I'm scaring you and a part of you just wants to run." Please stay.

"You! Ugh," Cindy groaned and twirled around. "Fine! If you don't want help, then I won't bother you!"

She left and Leia's heart shattered a little more. She wanted to call after Cindy and beg her to stay. Why couldn't she understand the cloud of hurt that swirled around Leia. It felt obvious. She wasn't hiding a thing. Her fingers clenched. Real friends would have understood the truth behind her words.

It didn't matter. Everyone could leave. Then they wouldn't be hurt by Vader like Syrena and abandon her. Who would accept a Sith-Spawn anyway?

"Um, Leia?" Luther interrupted her thoughts.

Glaring at him, she snapped, "What?"

He cowered for a moment before standing tall. "I was wondering if you would like to do something together? Maybe hang out?"

The Force screamed his fear and she could practically taste it. She scoffed. "You're afraid of me, just go, like everybody else."

Luther quivered beneath her glower and he pursed his lips together. "Right now, you're really scary, but I like, I think, you're perfectly nice. And sometimes people have bad days. Unless of course you hate me, then we don't need to do anything."

"What makes you think I'm nice?" she hissed. He should be running away. He had a life and limbs. Syrena lost her hand because of Leia. She would not inflect that pain onto others.

He stammered, "Well, you see, you just feel nice. Not now, but other times. And then you always help others and never care what they think. It's just... nice."

Staring at him, Leia's anger calmed. Despite his stammering and awkwardness, his honesty sang through the Force. Through his nervousness and Fear, she could feel another emotion, eluding her. It felt warm and a part of her yearned to brush against it. It reminded her painfully of her dad.

"You should go," she whispered tiredly.

"What? Why? Did I make you upset."

"No. Thank you, but you should be afraid of me."

His shoulders straightened and he looked her straight into the eye. "I'm not afraid of you."

The swirl of fear dissipated and only a hint of nervousness tinged around him. Leia blinked in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that.

"I... I like you." He blushed.

The Force rang in sincerity and Leia avoided his eyes as she felt something flutter in her stomach.

"Will you," he looked down at his feet, "help me with my tactics homework?"

Leia could guess the unasked question for herself. They were alone in the hallway and a responding blush rose to her cheeks. She really didn't know him and certainly didn't feel the same way... but he saw her. Still it wouldn't work.

"Luther, thank you," she checked that once again there was no one there, "but you don't know what you're getting into."

He crossed his arm and she could feel his cautious hope. "Please Leia, give me a chance. I know my family won't be the most welcoming, but I'm willing to try. We just don't have to tell them."

He thought it was his blood that was the problem. Leia wanted to cry. Her strings cut, Leia slid along the wall and down to the floor. Luther hurried over to her and she just shook her head, a hysterical laugh bubbling in her chest.

"Luther," she whispered, "My father is..." she wasn't supposed to tell, "I am..." it was so hard to get the words out. Luther had confessed to her and at least she could be honest. "My name is Leia Vader."

Swallowing, she looked at him and waited for the inevitable fear. He would stumble backwards and never talk to her again, because she was the daughter of a monster who enjoyed killing others.

His eyes widened and he shook his head. He stumbled backwards.

She looked down. Like everyone else, he would leave.

His hand settled on her shoulder. "I wasn't expecting that... but, Leia, I still like you. Although Vader," he chuckled nervously, "he's terrifying."

The rush of blood in her ears drowned out the Force and she stared between the loose strands of hair. Syrena hadn't wanted to do anything with her after she discovered the truth. But Luther... he was willing to try. And maybe her heart was beating slightly faster.

Disbelieving, she warned, "The rumors are true."

"So are the ones about my family," he joked with a small shrug. "I don't care. You're nice."

A fond smile itched to spread over her face and she dryly responded, "Then I'd be happy to help you with your homework Luther... and thank you. It means a lot."

His hand reached out to grasp hers and their fingers intertwined. The Force hummed with contentment and Leia closed her eyes as the cloak of anger she had been carrying evaporated. Her heart felt lighter and she smiled, feeling content for the first time. Not everything had to be ruined by her father. He couldn't take this moment of happiness from her.

? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ?

Lieutenant Prazak had known something was wrong, the instant he had seen Leia. Her red tinged eyes had bored into him and every instinct screamed at him to interfere. Something had drastically gone wrong, yet she avoided him like a plague. It was eery how she always knew the right moment to break free, to avoid his questioning. It was also infuriating. She was his student and he had a duty to protect her.

Piett glanced at her with knowing eyes, making Prazak want to snarl at the young man. Something was wrong and all of his instincts were screaming, Piett simply stared at her with a sad distant gaze. Occasionally, Piett's hand would drift to his collar and straighten it. It was simply another bizarre clue in the puzzle named Leia Japor.

He watched her classmates unconsciously distance themselves and watch her with a wary gaze. He could discern no logical reason. A foul mood was one thing, but the reaction was out of proportion. His gut twitched and his nerves tingled again as Leia slipped down the hallway, her friend, Cindy, chasing after her. Hopefully, Cindy would resolve the situation, but it didn't seem likely.

The following morning, he watched Cindy resolutely turn her back to Leia and sit at the opposite end of the cafeteria. He watched the slow drop of Leia's shoulders carefully and shook his head. She seemed slightly more at ease and perhaps now would be the best time to catch her.

Halfway standing up, he observed Mr. Tagge walking up to Leia and gently grabbing her hands. He had long suspected Mr. Tagge's crush, and had even pushed them to socialize with another, hoping that they could become friends. He hadn't expected it to go further, not with the shell Leia wore and her tightly held secrets. Their relationship was... a surprise, but a welcome one.

Turning around, he sat back down at the staff table and kept an eye on the young duo. Perhaps Leia had confided in Tagge and that was why she looked so relaxed around him. If only he could gain her trust as well. While the gut burning feeling that something was wrong had dissipated somewhat, it was naive to believe the situation had been completely resolved.

The bench creaked as Gerald sat down besides him. "Your problem child nearly knocked my head off yesterday."

"Perhaps you should improve your guard," Prazak retorted dryly as he stared at his empty cup of caf.

Gerald shook his head and glanced back at Leia. "My guard is fine. She is just wickedly fast and has been holding back apparently. Now, her and Tagge... never thought the boy would ever find the courage to ask."

"Gossiping about students' love life, " Prazak drawled, "what has the galaxy come to?"

"It's boring. Utterly boring. You'd think that with the Emperor announcing the Imperial Princess, something would change. But no, life just goes on and we stay here. Found anything new to watch?"

Something niggled in the back of his mind. "No... Gerald, what do you think of the Princess?"

The fork hung in the air for the moment and a slight grimace crossed Gerald's face, before his face turned rigid. "Leia Organa was from Alderaan and for some, it's aggravating to think that the Emperor took her and made her a symbol. She is the rightful successor to the Alderaan throne according to our customs and people... People aren't happy."

Gerald set down his fork and lowered his voice. "For the Princess herself? I feel sorry for her. Being adopted by Lord Vader, after he executed the Viceroy, can't have been easy and I doubt that was what the Organas wished. They would have had contingencies in place."

Prazak was missing something and it bothered him that he could feel the solution just flitting out of grasp. Leia Organa...

"Kriff," he whispered.

Leia Jade... her father had been executed... she was adopted. It wasn't possible, but Lord Vader was a man of a fearsome reputation. He had to be mistaken because if it was true, there was no way for him to assist her with her plight.

"What?" Geralt asked, his mouth full with food.

"I forgot to lock my office," he replied and stood up. "I'm going to have to cut this short. I'm sorry."

He ignored his best friend's annoyed shouts and slipped through the door. Alone, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. The chance that Leia Japor was Leia Organa had to be minuscule, but there was always a possibility and now that he thought of it, he couldn't discard the thought. Piett's strange and cryptic replies of honor having saved his life suddenly made a lot more sense.

And the clues were continuing to point to them being one and the same.

Prazak stumbled into his office and collapsed within his chair. There had to be a way to disprove it... he was just being paranoid.

Why had he listened to his gut?

It was always his gut that got him in trouble... And now? Now it was screaming and churning. Trouble was brewing. He paled. He had reported kriffing Vader for abuse. He was dead...

Very and most absolutely dead.

? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ?

Syrena lay on the ground, unmoving. Blinking, she glared at the stump that was once her hand. Too often, she reached out, thinking to curl her fingers, feeling the fingers, only to realize they weren't there. But the pain of losing a limb, was nothing compared to the one in her heart. Leia and her precious light was gone.

Leia had betrayed her... or had she?

Too many questions jostled within her mind and she groaned, pushing herself to her knees. She had hidden her strength and Vader had punished her for it. He had known her strength and pushed her to the brink. But it hadn't been an action to bring out the truth... no, it was an act of vengeance because she dared to look upon Leia and the glowing supernova that was her heart.

The door slid open and the Seventh Sister walked in once more. The Inquisitor never spoke, and the silence carried her distrust as well. Syrena should have died at Vader's blade, but Leia had saved her. Syrena was under no delusions. She only lived because of her former friend's plea.

Maybe, it hadn't been a lie?

Maybe, Leia had been just as scared?

Maybe, Leia felt the same aching loneliness within her heart?

No. Syrena stood up and accepted the staff in her left hand as the Seventh Sister went on guard. Leia was of no concern anymore. Anything else was wishful thinking and Syrena refused to let her heart be shattered once more.

The staff twirled in her hand. Reminiscent of the times Leia had aided her. Syrena bit her tongue and relished the sharp spike of pain. Why did every thought always have to trail back to that girl? The Force hummed as Syrena called upon it through the maelstrom of her own emotions.

It was dark and swift.

With it, she would be more powerful. Leia, no, the girl, would regret ever having betrayed her.

The Seventh Sister stalked forward and dove. the staff crashed into Syrena's own, and twirled off, slamming into the back of her knees. Grasping on the Force and bringing it to heel. Syrena pushed the Inquisitor away. She refused to ever be at someone's mercy again.

The Seventh Sister paused and tapped the side of her helmet. The face plate slid to the side to reveal her face. "Our Master has decreed you will never become an Inquisitor. What right do you have to yield the Force? You are a disgrace."

"It's mine," Syrena snarled. It was the only thing she had left. The Force would never betray her. It hummed approvingly.

The Force screamed.

She moved to block, but she tried to intercept with her right hand, her nonexistent hand. The Seventh Sister easily slipped through her guard.

Nothing.

The Force was silent.

It was gone.

Stumbling to the ground, Syrena stared up in shock. The Force was gone... she truly was nothing. A weight around her wrists called her attention and she stared at the binders. They had stolen the Force away from her.

"The Force is not yours. Only a Sith may wield it with absolute authority. It is but a tool, and you are no longer worthy of it." The Seventh Sister sauntered closer. "You're a cripple. Useless. And our Master doesn't condone those who have no use. Learn to fight without the Force or the next one, will be your last."

Heart hammering, Syrena struggled to breathe. Every breath hurt, and yet, they weren't enough. She needed to breathe, but the Force was gone... and what use was there in continuing to fight. Her family had betrayed the Empire, not caring for the suffering they inflicted upon her. Leia... Leia had played her. And now, the Force abandoned her.

Syrena looked aside. "I would simply be delaying my execution."

The Seventh Sister's reply showed no mercy. "Nobody escapes our Master's justice."

In sparing her life, Leia had just condemned Syrena to a more slow and torturous death.

The door slammed shut. Syrena stared at the binders. She could slip out. She was literally a hand short. With the Force... she... could do nothing. There was nothing left for her. There was no longer a point.

All she could do was wait for death. Then finally, she would be at peace.

? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ? ﾝﾄﾾ?

For once, I actually published something on Star Wars day.

Leia and Luther have been planned since his introduction. As you may have noticed, I don't write romance and since this is fundamentally a coming of age story which will involve Leia and Han getting together in the end... I sort of need to learn. So here's my short practice run as Leia navigates the dangers of having a crush.

Since FFN sort of sucks at the moment with ads showing up mid chapter for some people and PM notifications not working, I will be spending the month of May uploading chapters to A03. Initially, I had planned to do some extensive edits, but that's too time consuming. I will continue updating here as well, but this gives everyone the option to enjoy story on their preferred platform. Also, I have started a discord server so you can keep track of my progress there and ask questions (or bother me into updating a bit more frequently please don't). discord.gg(slash)uSBegVj because FFN is being a piece of bantha fodder and not allowing links to work. Or find me on A03 and use the working link on my profile.

What have I been doing as you've all been patiently waiting? Writing... just on the wrong fic. It has allowed me to rid myself of the urge to suddenly make Princess a political intrigue so look on the bright side.

I have another one-shot which I will probably publish 13 hrs or so from when this is posted. It is called To Revolve Around and was sparked by the idea that Shmi doesn't like the idea of her son being the Chosen One. So if you're curious, keep an eye out.