As You Wish

You face the room-spanning viewport that separates you from the world you rule. Worlds, for that matter. Far beyond the boundaries of this one insignificant planet there exist thousands of systems under your control, each one bowing to your every whim. Peace is a lofty and noble ideal, but without your leadership and brute force, the galaxy would have fallen, and your family along with it. You owed it to them. You owed it to the past, present, and future generations of your family to rise above the ashes of war and grasp the power the galaxy offered you.

So many stars, shining through the neon haze of the city-planet. It has gone by a few different names in the past, at the height of the wars. You have restored the name of Coruscant to the capital world, bringing history in a full circle. Peace has been yours for many years now, and that leaves you satisfied. The people love you, the politicians love you – even the smugglers who still skirt the Outer-Rim hold some strange, reluctant affection for you. Insurrections have been extinguished quickly; small flames of rebellion are snuffed out. Life is as it should be.

You turn away from the majestic view and stare at a holoscreen that has activated on the other side of the throne room. The face on the other end belongs to an admiral who has seen too many civilian deaths to ever feel comfortable in his post again. Being the cause of those deaths has left its mark on him, in more ways than one. The scars running from hairline to jaw are testament to a life you would never have chosen for him, but it is one he lived nonetheless. You would have spared him that. A long time ago, you would have pitied him.

Now you wait for his report.

"The border dispute between the Argeneens and the Lamians has escalated," he begins without prelude. "Skirmishes between members of both defense forces have been reported by our agents." The admiral clears his throat and glances at something beyond the holofield. "All attempts at peaceful negotiations have failed."

You raise one eyebrow. "Your men were not able to make them see reason?"

"Your Excellency, they believe themselves too far removed from your influence to be of consequence. The Argeneen king says if you will not intercede directly on his behalf, than he will crush Lamia into submission."

"He sounds more like a petty warlord than a king."

"Indeed, Excellency. What do you command?"

It has been four months since the last minor crisis, but this one is different. You fear that the waning Rebellion has its hands in this. Your visions of late have foreshadowed an increased level of interference from that troublesome group. Why couldn't it just die like the rest of its revered heroes?

"Take the Third Fleet to the Lamia System. Tell the Argeneen king he has one standard week to surrender and begin demobilization. I will not be bullied by a barbarian." You smile at the thought of another arrogant man submitting to your will. "Let the Lamians have the disputed border territory."

"It will be done as you wish, Empress."

"Oh, and Admiral Skywalker?"

The admiral looks at you, and in his blue eyes you see the shadow of a young boy who once wanted to be a guardian of peace and justice in the galaxy. You did all this as much for him as you did for your own children. "Yes, my lady?"

You've always hated being called that. "Ben," you say quietly, in a voice you sometimes think you've forgotten how to use. "If you see your uncle, tell him not to get in my way."

He blinks twice and nods stiffly. "I will, Aunt Leia." The holo transmission ends abruptly.

No matter what they say, you are not like your father or your son. You are no Sith Lord. You are the Empress, and that is enough.