A/N: Just a series of drabbles/ficlets. One a day for a month, once I can find an easier way of getting on to fanfiction, either that or thirty in a row. I'll also be updating my other star wars story one every other week.

First prompt: Breathe

Breathe

Sometimes it feels as if you carry not only the weight of your problems on your shoulders, but the weight of a whole planets, the weight of an entire galaxies problems on your shoulders. And you feel as if its crushing you, your shoulders are bowing, your back is breaking, and yet you still have to smile for the cameras after another successful mission and be perfectly serene in front of the council.

Of course everyone has their own way of handling it, meditation, sparing, visiting with friends. But really, none of those work, of course on the surface they seem to, but when you are in the middle of it, knowing that at any second you may join the force or be caught and tortured by the steps, well then none of those do anything, but pull your concentration away from where it needs to be, on the here and now. When you're choking on your "nonexistent" fear and can't breathe, feel as if you're trying to inhale while underwater, when it's all to much.

Really the only thing you can do, before you crumble, before you decided to stand up and wait for a blaster to painfully, mercifully, take you down, the only way to survive it, is to just keep breathing.

Because as long as you're breathing you're alive.