Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter Two

The Game is Over

"When you find yourself in the presence of a lion, it's best to know which side of the cage you're on."

- Joel T. McGrath

The Resistance was not called the Resistance when it first took Turshaval. They were merely part of the Republic military, reclaiming a planet taken by the First Order without permission. General Leia Organa had led the group in the retaking. My mother and I lived closer to the capitol then. I clung to her leg, careful not to lean on my bandaged leg too much. I'd just gashed it wide open a couple days ago, and hadn't noticed until my pant leg was soaked with blood. Mom hadn't been happy.

"And who is this?" A woman with hair just barely beginning to turn grey down a bit to smile at me.

She had a kind face, but I shrank back anyway. Back into the floor and the walls, the whispers told me. Fade away.

Her smile faltered a bit, as if sensing something. My mother said something to her, and her look softened, "Is that so? Little Iliana, why not join us up here?"

I didn't want to, but I did. The older woman's gaze was piercing. But the whispers seemed okay with her, so I eventually shrugged and came out from my hiding. Mom sat down at the table with the General and I hopped up in the one between her and a black-haired boy who was just too freakin' tall and was all lanky and teenage and boy.

I hadn't left the life-stage yet where boys were anything but gross.

My mom was talking to the General, so I just stared down at my plate of food. The other man at the table, tall and with a roguish look to him, leaned in with his elbows on the table. His eyes twinkled, smiling without smiling, as he looked right at me, "So you're Amali's daughter. How old are you?"

I gulped and swallowed. The boy next to me shifted and I blurted out, "Eleven!"

The man chuckled and leaned back. I decided I liked him. He was nice and fatherly, if a bit strange. Much nicer than my strict father had been. Had been.

The General and her husband, Han Solo, and the boy I was eventually told was their son Ben, kept coming back to the capitol over the next couple months. Making sure the government was reestablished here, talking to people who were important and boring things like that. I had a much better idea.

Show me. Show me your better idea.

I scrambled it all. Darkness seeped in, clawing at my mind with thick black tendril-like fingers. Faded back, neither into the darkness nor the light. The presence was angry. It tried to force me back, to show them more. But I kept fading. Always fading, always hidden.

I awoke in a bed of sweat. Someone had tried to break into my mind. They already got too much; they'd seen me and heard my voice. Though the dream was fuzzy around the edges and the people within not entirely clear, they had to know my hair color. Gender. Skintone. But they'd only seen me at eleven. I looked miles different now, at twenty-five.

But that didn't settle my flip-flopping stomach. This was getting dangerous. I stood up, slowly, and crossed my legs. The sun was far from rising still, so I would probably be better going back to sleep. Examine it. Examine the emotions. Use them, let them guide you, but you control them, Iliana.

Then, I smiled. I knew what I would do, and opened my eyes to get ready for work a bit early.

The next night, I was ready for them.

I was running around the base at the capitol. There were not many people around, and I just wanted to stretch my legs. Mom was talking to General Leia down the hall, and warned me not to go too far. She was always too protective, given my-

My hair was black and eyes green when I turned the corner and knocked into Ben. I fell to the floor with a squeal and he looked down at me in shock for a moment. He reached out a hand and I took it, "Are you okay-"

I was a boy now, blonde and laughing at something the big grizzly bear-looking person said. Han said his name was Chewbacca. He was cool, I guess. A little scary at first, but he was really just a bit old teddy-

I pulled back my fiery red hair and smiled at General Leia. Mother had to run off for something; she was kind of a big deal in the-

Stop. Show me true. Your face and name.

The presence pushed harder, but I merely directed the push away. My mind was walled, and there was no window. No doors. No entrance. Yet the presence pushed, and it pushed and it pushed...

And then it raged, for it could find nothing. I merely faded away. Back into the surroundings, back into the Force, back into the-

I turned a corner and saw Ben by a window. Levitating a small stone above the sill, looking out the window with a strange expression. A conflicted expression.

"Are you magic, mister Ben?" I bounded up, red-black-brown-blonde long-short-bald hair bouncing. He didn't flinch when I put my tiny hands on his leg, stretching to get a look at the stone better.

"It's not magic, it's the Force," Ben sighed. His eyes narrowed, and he looked troubled. Or he was just annoyed by me. I was pretty good at annoying him in month his parents were here to reestablish Republic control.

"The Force?" I reached up for the stone. It shifted away, and out of the corner of my eye, he was smiling. Just a bit, "What's that?"

"It's in everything, powers everything, controls everything," Ben said, still looking out the window, "And I can control it."

"So it's like the whispers!"

He started. The stone dropped, and Ben looked down at me with raised eyebrows, "Whispers?"

I nodded vigorously. Holding out my hand like he had, I focused on the little stone. There was that stuff between it. I never had a name for it. Mom told me not to do this in front of anyone, but Ben was nice. Ben could do it too.

The little stone floated, and he stared at it. Ben looked from it to me, alarmed, "Y-you, you can-"

"This is Force, right?" I giggled, "Force, like you can do!"

Ben looked back at the stone. He did that almost-smile again. The stone floated for a moment before falling back to the windowsill, and he turned back to me, "So does that mean you're coming with me?"

I blinked, "You're leaving, Ben?"

He nodded, excited, "My uncle's a great Jedi. He's going to teach me to be one too. We're going to another planet, everyone's going to know us!"

I considered it, but then the whispers came. They warned of caution. I shook my head, "Nope. Mom said I'm not supposed to show anyone. But I think..." I tilted my head, remembering General Leia's face when we first met, "I think you mama thinks I'm weird."

"It's not weird; it's powerful."

I shrugged. Someone was calling for me. I turned around and saw mom at the end of the hall, looking exasperated. I'd run away from her again to go play. I didn't really understand why she was so protective. If I was just careful, it was fine. I knew I didn't hurt like normal people, but still. I wanted to play.

"Mama's calling; goodbye, Ben!" I leaned up, way on my tippy-toes because the fifteen-year-old was just so dang tall, and kissed his cheek like mama did whenever she had to say goodbye.

Goodbye, Ben.

Goodbye, Ben.

Goodbye.

I woke up, drenched again in sweat. This wasn't a game anymore. I pushed myself up, willing my wildly beating heart to still. No. I had to try harder. My eyes narrowed as the sun slowly illuminated my room. They would not find me. They would not touch my mind again. I threw up my mental walls and faded again. Smaller and smaller, falling back into the world around me. Calm. Examine your emotions. Use them for strength. Release. Like the whispers taught you, Iliana.

Why did the presence - who I am assuming is the black-cloaked man - bring up that memory? It was over fourteen years ago; just some boy I'd known for a month and played with. Well - I chuckled - I did most of the playing. He just seemed annoyed at me all the time, and broody. But he was the one who gave me a name for the power behind the whispers. I'd always been thankful for that.

For the next week, I played no more games with the presence. I didn't help when I few more kitchen accidents happened. Malia told me we weren't the only kitchen where people were seeming to be more clumsy than usual. She'd heard that they were in other parts of the base, too.

When FC-1866 came and asked if anyone here had skills with electronics and wires, I raised my hand readily. Anything to get out of the kitchen for a bit, where I could feel the presence just waiting for me to slip up and give myself away. Evidently, an electronics technician had angered the wrong higher up. I didn't ask what happened to them, because I already knew.

It was a small panel in a wall. I'd done some work like this with the Resistance, just before mom died and the planet was retaken. Another First Order trooper, LN-5821, gave me a set of tools and kept watch. Of course he did; I was a local, after all. Not one of their brainwashed masses. I stripped the wires where the short occurred. With a small solder, I sealed the edges of the wire together and re-wrapped them. Sealant, electrical tape, and some finagling later, and the job was done. I replaced the panel, put the tools away, and handed them to the trooper.

He - I knew it was a he from the voice - led me back down the hall, "You will be returned to the cantina to resume your duties."

They rarely seemed to speak, except to instruct. Never questioning, never speaking out of turn. I wondered what would happen if they did.

I'd never been inside the First Order outpost. It wasn't nearly as big at the one at the capitol, and looked too modular. I remember when it was build; it was as if the whole place went up overnight, many buildings near the shore demolished to make room for it. The trooper was taking me a different way than the one we came. When I asked why, he gave me the one word "Training" excuse. I assumed that meant that the way we came was too close to the training hall, which was active now.

We turned a corner, and suddenly I froze. Not because I recognized this hall from my dream. The glass windows overlooking the training stormtroopers, the hall to the right that I knew led to where I'd seen the ginger-haired man. I froze because I saw him. But he wasn't there. I saw him, clear as day, but he wasn't here. It was as if I was seeing two places at once.

His back was too me. Helmet on, black robes billowing around him. When I saw him, he felt me and began to turn.

He vanished just in time, when the trooper smacked my back and I stumbled forward, "Keep moving."

"Sorry," I muttered, rubbing my back. It didn't hurt, of course, but mom taught me to try and pretend things that would hurt someone without my condition did hurt me.

As we walked, I wondered why. What just happened? I hadn't been asleep, I hadn't opened my mind. And I nearly got caught.

The rest of the day, I spent in the kitchens of the cantina in silence. It wasn't out of the ordinary, not with how FC-1866 always yelled at us if we spoke above a whisper, but Malia still noticed. She mentioned my quietness when we walked home, but I just smiled and shook my head. I was fine. I was fine.

A week later, I was not so fine. When I walked into work, FC-1866 was waiting and flanked by stormtroopers. A few others still had to arrive, so we all waited in relative silence. Everyone was tense. Malia looked like she was about to bolt. Then, finally, once everyone arrived, the First Order member spoke, "Our great Lord Kylo Ren has ordered that all local employees of the outpost submit themselves for interrogation."

"Interro- we haven't done anything!" Nunes was half out of his seat, but a stormtrooper forced him down again. The tension rose, and I took a deep, calming breath.

"There are reports of Resistance forces planning an attack to retake the planet," FC-1866 said, "You will all submit yourselves for interrogation to root them out."

All. Everyone. All local 'employees'. That was hundreds of people. Submitted to First Order interrogation. I couldn't help the shiver that raced up my spine. And the empathy; empathy for my coworkers, who would be submitted to this with me. Just to find some information about the Resistance, if there even was any.

Pretense. Caution.

They were here for me, not the Resistance. Do I give myself up now? Save the rest from interrogation? This wasn't a game anymore. If I spoke up, I could stop their interrogation. But then I would be caught. And forced to do who knows what for the First Order.

You know what.

Blood. Carnage and battles. Blasters overhead, next to me, beams of light. Red and blue, clashing together. Snow. The man in the black robes, without his helmet, back to me. Another, with brown hair and fierce eyes, blue-beamed blade in hand.

I ripped myself from the vision as FC-1866 ordered us to stand. Petra didn't go fast enough. I was, and slid myself behind her just as the stormtroopers blow came down. I stumbled a bit, but collected myself and stood straight. My back felt warm.

"Are you okay?" Malia asked in a whisper.

"Silence," One of the troopers said as we were marched out. I flashed Malia a smile and nodded.

We were herded into the training floor. It was full of people. At least a couple hundred, most in various types of uniforms. But some weren't. At least a quarter were in street clothes. Pulled off the streets for an impromptu interrogation. All of these people. All of them, for me.

Above me, on a balcony overlooking the training but just below the next level, came three figures. The ginger-haired man, the silver-armored trooper, and the man with the black robes and helmet. The ginger-haired man stepped forward and spoke in a booming voice that had the smallest trace of shrillness, "The Resistance is among you. They have infiltrated Turshaval, and we have intelligence that they are among you in Hallaport. You will be interrogated. You will give us the Resistance. And if you do, you will go home. If you do not... we will burn the memory of this place from the surface of the planet-"

Give yourself up and this will stop.

I froze.

Do it. Turn yourself in to the nearest stormtrooper. Do it and the rest of these people will not be interrogated.

He lies.

The whispers. I always trusted them. And they told me there was something more. I looked around, seeming to be just as confused and scared as the rest of the masses. I blended in. I was no one. And as I did that, I turned on the black robed man. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, confident that he was well too far to pick out the movement in the crowd. And I did to him what he'd done to me in my dreams. I delved.

"General Hux, you have failed to find anything. You have been in Turshaval for over a month and you have failed to find the Resistance insurgency on the planet."

It was a low voice, from a gigantic hologram that took up most of the room. The man - at least, I think it was a man - was menacing and covered in scarring. One side of his face looked permanently caved him at the jaw, and he had no hair and sallow skin. In a small outcropping jutting out from the exit of the expansive, dark chamber, stood the ginger-haired man and the black-robed man.

"Supreme Leader, we are getting closer to the-"

"You lie," The ginger-haired man doubled over, clutching at his head. I felt a tightness, a darkness in my own chest, "This miniscule planet is one of the best jumping off points to attack the inner parts of the Republic. We will not lost it to the Republic and the Resistance again."

The man gasped when whatever hold the hologrammed figure had on him lessened. As he was gasping, the 'Supreme Leader' said, "You will find them, General Hux. Snuff them out and destroy them. Interrogate the entire outpost and the capitol if you have to."

"Y-yes Supreme Leader."

"You are dismissed," The hologram said. The ginger-haired man, this General Hux, saluted and left. He was rubbing his neck and temple as he passed me.

"Kylo Ren," The robbed man knelt down on one knee when his name was called. His name... so the robbed man was the Lord of the Sith I'd heard about, "Have you found the Force-sensitive yet?"

"... no, Master."

The room grew tense and cold as his Master answered, "You as well, have had over a month and you have yet to capture someone known to be in the port from the reports o obvious Force usage. Known to be in the very outpost commanded by us?!"

"Master, they are strong with the Force but untrained," Lord Ren stood. His gloves fingers were clenched, "I am getting close. I can feel her walls breaking. I will find her."

"You know it is a her," The room grew charged again, like when General Hux was in pain. But the black-robed man didn't so much as flinch, "Ahh, I see. You believe you know her. You have met her in your past. Yet you were weak then. You could not see what she was. And now, so much older... you can't even remember her name."

"Master-"

"Find her. Find her and bring her to me. This talent of hers with the Force, to hide in plain sight and manipulate it. We could use that."

"Yes, Master."

"Find her before any attack the Resistance may be planning," The Supreme Leader said, "We cannot allow them to find her first."

"Yes, Master."

"This is not a negotiation, my young apprentice. You will find her, you will bring her to me, and she will join us. Or you will kill her."

"...Yes, Master."

I was thrown out of the vision with a jolt. There was anger in the room, confusion, and I snapped my gaze up to look at the black-robed man. He was half-stomping, half-flying from the balcony, the ginger-haired General Hux staring after him. Such anger, such reckless rage emanated from the man and colored the whole chamber until well after he was gone. But I had my information. They weren't here just for me. They were here for the Resistance. I was just an afterthought. They happened to be coming to the planet, so they were going to look into the 'ghost' of the cantina.

So I let myself fade back. I may be able to hide then. Because these interrogations were for the Resistance search, not for me.

I sat with Malia on the floor of the hall. The troopers had, under the General's orders, split us by gender and then by section within the base. That meant that Malia, Petra, and a couple other of the females in the cantina were together while Nunes and the rest were far away. Then they called the first group, who were half-dragged from the training room under the guard of an entire squad of stormtroopers.

"What's going to happen to us?" Malia muttered, eyes darting around. She couldn't stop staring at the troopers that lined the entire hall.

"Hey," I leaned forward and put a hand on her knee, smiling, "Everything's going to be fine. We don't know anything about the Resistance. They have no reason to hurt us." They may hurt me, if I wasn't careful.

"But... but what are they going to do? T-torture...?" She shivered and sobbed, once. I scooted so I was next to her and drew her in, one arm across her shoulders. I didn't have much I could say. I didn't exactly know what this interrogation would mean either, only that I knew now that it didn't matter if I turned myself in. They were going to come for everyone else regardless, all because of some tip and some point from some where that told them the Resistance was planning to retake the planet. This tiny, inconsequential planet that was only good for jumping off to other places.

Then, they came for us after nearly half a day of interrogations. Troopers surrounded us and we stood us. Our group was so small that we were brought out with another two. Out of the training room, down a hall, down a flight of stairs, an into a dark passage. The walls were less grey here and more black. The lights, white and red strips along the ceiling. Then we were instructed, under armed guard, to line up outside the doors lining the passage. I hesitated, arm still around Malia. A stormtrooper wrenched her away and shoved her inside the cell a few down from the one that a sharp hit to my lower back sent me tumbling into. Two stormtroopers came in with an emotionless looking man in a sharp white jacket.

"Stand on the platform."

The room had garish lights all over the ceiling, and some strips down the walls. All a blinding white. In the center of the oval cell was a platform, tilted up, places for my feet and arms and restraints all over. I balled my fist. I did not want to go in there.

"Stand on the platform now."

A shove and I was thrown into the platform. I whipped around, only to have stormtroopers on either side of me, forcing my arms and legs into place so they could clamp in the electronic restraints. I didn't fight them, but they weren't gentle. I needed to stay calm. Feel the anxiety, feel the fear. Acknowledge it, use it, and let it pass. As long as I played along, pretended to feel pain to whatever they did to me, I would be fine. I genuinely know nothing about the Resistance, so there was nothing for me to give up.

The stormtroopers left, but as a sharply dressed officer entered and nodded to the obvious medical personnel, I could see their white armor on either side of the door. Guarding us, as if anyone here had the ability to get out of this. The doors slid closed as a droid floated in, covered in all sorts of nasty, sharp instruments and needles. Some were filled with fluid, others were not. I knew that none of them would really have an effect on me if they just caused pain. But I would have to act like they did.

Then the white-jacketed man began attached electrodes to my forehead and chest, unbuttoning the top parts of my uniform to do so. He acted clinically, as robotic as the droid next to him. I pretended to flinch when an IV needle was shoved in the crook of my elbow, breathed quicker than I really needed to in order to simulate panic. The presence of the electrodes did give me anxiety, though. I can fake a reaction to pain perfectly. I couldn't fake monitors detecting the chemical and electric signals given off by those in actual pain. At least most of the monitors were only for detecting falsehood, not that those weren't incredible easy to fool.

"Now you will tell us; what do you know of the Resistance activities in Hallaport?" Said the officer.

"Nothing," I said, taking deep breaths to keep myself calm and seem like I was holding back panic. In reality, I was pretty at ease.

"Let's see..." The officer turned to regard a readout in his hands, "Iliana Lanlake. Daughter of deceased Sergeant Bennlan Lanlake of the First Order and... ahh, Jaihana Lanlake. Resistance scum, who died when we retook the planet." He leaned close, setting aside the readout. His eyes narrowed, "Are you scum, like your mother? Taking a job in the cantina of the outpost so you could keep an eye out for the Resistance friends?"

I fought to not clench my fists or my teeth, "No, sir." These cells were not soundproof. I knew because, from the others, I began to hear the screaming.

"I may believe you," The officer stood straighter and nodded to the white-jacketed man. He motioned the droid closer, "But I don't. I maybe will, however, after you have had some... persuasion."

And here came my act. The medical-jacketed man injected something into my IV as the droid came closer, all gnashing metal and whirring blades. For literally anyone else, it would have hurt. So I began to scream. Scream as it burned me, scream as it sliced at me, screamed as the man took notes and eyed the readouts with a dead-eyed, impassive face.

He didn't care. None of them cared. Because in the First Order, personal feelings don't matter. Only order, only results.

And so I screamed on, and didn't feel a thing.

Author's Note: Please review if you liked it! I had a lot of fun with this one :)