Rating:PG
Disclaimer: George Lucas and LucasFilm Ltd. own the Star Wars universe and all the characters we know and love (or hate—depends on your POV). Timothy Zahn is the exalted creator of Mara Jade, but she belongs to herself. J I'm not making a single Republic credit from this or any other form of revenue for that matter. My only reward is feedback in just about any form from the kind folks in cyber-land. I like reward (hint, hint). The story belongs to me.
Authors notes: All hail the mighty betas without whom I would surely embarrass myself for all the world to see. Thank you and the chocolate-covered Jedi of your choice to Crysta, Gill (you get a chocolate-covered scruffy looking Nerf-herder), Andorus, Sulis, and Arica (You're too young for Jedi, I'm sending you a stuffed Ewok)!
This is the second installment of the Stolen Innocence Series. The first installment is For My Emperor.
Archivists: It has come to my attention that people are actually asking to post my stuff on their sites. I haven't the foggiest idea why, but if you'd like to archive something of mine, please e-mail me and ask first. I seriously doubt you'll be denied: jade_heart_@hotmail.com
Summary: Continues where "For My Emperor" left off. Nine year old Mara continues her education for the benefit of the Emperor while beginning to entertain disturbing thoughts.
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Belong
By Pseudo Psyche
A pale face with a piercing gaze framed by hair the color of the shimmering sunset. A kind face that shone with love, despite the choking dust in the air. The face was such a comfort, something Mara knew so little of these days.
//Come to me.//
Mara stared at the face in confusion. It was the woman facing her who spoke, but the voice was wrong. Scratchy and deep, not the silvery, cooing tones that Mara somehow knew belonged to the woman. Somehow. . .
//Come to me. Now!//
In an instant the loving visage morphed into the alabaster, wrinkled skin of her lord and master.
Mara woke with a start.
For a moment she lay there, staring at the ceiling of her sleeping quarters, desperately trying to pull the last wisps of her dream back to her, to hold onto that woman just long enough to shove her into the shrinking recesses of her memory before she was gone forever.
But it was too late. When Mara squeezed her eyes shut again, only the disapproving face of her Emperor stared back at her.
What was she trying to remember again?
Shaking the last vestiges of sleep and shredded dreams from her wearied mind, Mara practically leapt from her bed and pushed her sleep shirt above her head. Quickly yanking on her blue jumpsuit and pulling on her ankle boots over already socked feet, Mara grabbed a tie for her hair after she combed her fingers through it to keep it somewhat in place. She gathered her long locks into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and hastily tied it there as she headed out the door of her quarters.
She did not run down the corridors. Proper subjects of the Emperor did not indulge in such childish endeavors. They walked straight and tall, and in so doing, displayed the strength and discipline of the Empire. As always, Mara was a very proper subject as she walked briskly to the Emperor's ready room.
It did not occur to Mara to wonder how she knew that Emperor Palpatine would be in his ready room at this late hour rather than his own quarters until she arrived and the door slid open.
Cold and silence greeted her. The girl's brain was just able to register these two unnerving sensations causing her to believe that she'd gone to the wrong place, when her eyes picked out a shadowy figure in the far corner.
The hooded figure stood facing the gray walls. Her Emperor was merely a black spot against the smooth, polished plasteel that gave the room such a dignified, austere look. In a moment, Mara realized that his back was turned to her and inwardly she cringed: this did not bode well. The deafening silence between them only served to confirm her fear, and without knowing her offense, Mara tried to brace herself for the coming punishment. Perhaps her earlier performance with the training remote was not satisfactory?
"How was your sleep?" her Emperor asked in a low, venomous voice.
This was an odd question. He had never asked the girl about personal matters before unless it had affected her training somehow. Now Mara knew that she was not performing to his standards, she silently cursed herself for her failure even as she answered.
"Satisfactory, my lord."
"Good." It was almost a hiss. "No disturbances then? Nightmares?'
Puzzled, Mara fought herself to keep from displaying her confusion on her face. Emotions kept one from remaining focused, and they provided information to the enemy: they must be shoved deep down if they must occur at all. Another lesson of a good Imperial subject learned well.
"I do not believe so, my lord. I am quite rested."
Finally, and to Mara's relief, Emperor Palpatine turned to face her. He slowly walked towards her as he spoke.
"I am relieved to here that, little one. I was afraid that dreams of one who so heartlessly abandon you might be frightening. I'm glad to see that they were not."
Mara was as confused by the content of her master's words as by his use of a childhood endearment that he had not used since the early days after he brought her with him to this place. This place, her home.
Emperor Palpatine seemed to pick up on this emotion and asked in a tone that Mara was not sure was quite genuine, "You were dreaming, were you not?"
"Yes, my lord, but I did not recognize the person from my dream." There was that strange buzzing sound in the back of her head again, the one that seemed to warn her that things were going to go from bad to worse. Mara did not like where this conversation was going.
"The person who you dreamed of was someone who left you all alone a very long time ago." The Emperor's eyes became as hard as his voice with his next comment, "It was a good thing I was there to take you and protect you from such disgraceful behavior."
Mara swallowed a lump in her throat. Her master's eyes seemed to positively burn. "Y-yes, sir. Thank you sir."
Her master's posture seemed to visibly relax and he leaned back a bit.
"Oh my poor, poor girl. I've been working you rather hard lately, haven't I?"
"Sir?"
"You are positively exhausted with all the exercises I have you run through. Now, don't contradict me, I can tell." The Emperor's face crinkled in an attempt at a half smile.
Mara wisely remained silent.
"No wonder you have such monstrous visions." Soft tones to match his soft face, yet the buzzing in the back of her head continued.
For some reason, Mara was irked by the description of the dream-woman as monstrous, but since she didn't know why, she quickly banished the thought from her mind as the Emperor continued.
" How are your language studies coming?"
Mara swallowed. This was again unexpected. The more her lord threw her off balance, the more uncomfortable she became. No longer the confident young-warrior-to-be that she was in her training exercises with the droids, Mara was beginning to feel very much like a naughty little girl being killed with kindness. She hated not feeling in control, but she refused to be disgraced even now before her interrogator and idol. Her face held firm in its calm detachment.
"I am progressing. . .slowly, Your Highness."
Intense, hard eyes bored into the girl's face. She could almost feel them dig under her skin in his scrutiny of her. She would not flinch and willed her nerves into submission. She was not a weakling. She was as good as an Imperial princess! So said the great deity, Emperor Palpatine himself once, long ago, and she believed him. Wholeheartedly.
Satisfied with her unwavering demeanor, Emperor Palpatine finally lowered the boom.
"Understandable considering the physical strain you are under. I believe a vacation is in order."
"A vacation?" she echoed hopefully.
"Yes, a vacation of sorts. To help clear your mind and further your education. A working holiday, if you will. Tomorrow you will take a transport to the esteemed Geihidian School of Corellia. There, you will participate in the classes that have already been chosen for you and return to me upon the completion of said classes."
Mara's face finally rebelled against its forced composure and fell like a shattered mask before the Emperor. So this is what it took to work past her carefully cultivated demeanor, she thought to herself ruefully: rejection.
The Gehidian School was indeed a gallactically-renowned institution: for the training of highborn court entertainers (or calandras), and the daughters of lesser-known nobility who would be expected to incorporate their lessons from the school into their arranged marriages for the benefit of their well-to-do husbands. Daughters of more influential nobility, and royalty went to finishing schools, like the Trouseliaké School of Coruscant. This was one of the oldest and therefore most respected finishing schools of its kind. The Emperor kindly allowed it to remain in operation after the formation of the Empire as an example that not everything must change under his leadership. Though usually impoverished in the wake of Imperial expansion, most (formally) noble families would scrounge together the scraps of their depleted fortunes to send at least one of their daughters to the equally financially-strapped and now somewhat deteriorated school, if for no other reason than the reputation and respect that the mere mention of "Trouseliaké" brought. Even Mara, in her superior Imperial education knew that. A true princess of the Empire should be sent to Trouseliaké. To be sent to Geihidian meant only one thing: Mara had offended her lord and master and was no longer worthy of being called his "princess".
//Oh, how little you understand, little one.// The Emperor's voice rang loud and clear, but in shock, Mara realized that his lips never moved!
The Emperor's lips curled in a perverse grin as the realization registered on his young ward's face.
//So surprised are you? Pity. I had expected you to ask about it when you first came through the door like any curious child would. But you held your tongue. You're growing up, girl.//
Aloud, Palpatine continued his discourse. "You hear and you understand what I wish you to because we are linked little one. You are special. And you shall be great. I will make you great. Never doubt that. You are a Daughter of the Empire, a princess. I will give you more power than you could ever have hoped to possess on any dusty little back-world planet."
Mara flinched at a sudden memory of her previous dream. There was dust in the air. . . Quickly, Palpatine continued:
"I have chosen you , Mara Jade. No one is above you in this honor, but many are below. Would you disgrace an old man by making a mockery of this honor with distorted visions of a dark time in your young life?" the Emperor frowned sadly from beneath his cowl.
Mara rushed to rectify the horrible wrong she had done to her beloved benefactor.
"Oh your Highness, I never meant to hurt your feelings! It was only a dream! A silly, childish fancy! I am honored to have been hand-picked by you! You are my Emperor!" The outburst was charged with the energy of the young and the pliable. The Emperor smiled; there was room to work with this young one yet.
"Ah, my girl, you bring warmth to this old man's heart."
Mara smiled, happy to have pleased him.
"And, as you are such a considerate little Imperial, I shall tell you why you are being sent to the Geihidian instead of the Trouseliaké like the proper princess you are to me.
Mara returned to her invisible calm mask and listened carefully. This was her Emperor, her wise benefactor and master, how could she ever doubt him? He had an excellent reason for choosing the Geihidian for her continued education, and now he would tell her. He would never do her wrong.
"The Geihidian has a certain use. From its teachers, you will learn the difficult art of entertaining." A wave of his hand put an end to any protest the girl might have offered. "Entertaining is very difficult to do properly, and I expect as good a performance from you in that capacity as I would as a warrior. You will have need of these skills as well when you are grown and are of use to me. Is that understood?"
"Yes, master." She replied humbly.
"Good. You are excused to your room. You will leave at 0700. Japara will take you. Your bags have already been packed appropriately for you."
And with that, Mara left the Ready Room, determined to serve her Emperor well.
The Emperor smiled. Ah the innocence of youth.
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Mara's arrival on Correlia was anything but eventful. Japara, a member of the Royal Imperial Guard, turned Mara (identified by him as Rone Ya-Ro, daughter of one of his personal calandras) over to the headmistress of the Geihidian School. A member of the Royal Imperial Guard was apparently something of a sensation, and pleasantly enough Mara found that she was being treated as well as any princess at Trouseliaké might. In addition, apparently many Imperials sent their higher slaves and daughters here, so that the school was doing better than it had under the long-dead Galactic Republic. Thanks to her prestige as property of a Royal Imperial Guard, Mara was given a private room at then end of the first dormitory, and although it was neither as spacious or as fancy as her quarters at home on Coruscant, it was certainly better than being forced to live in the common room with the other girls her age. They concerned her. Mara had never had playmates. Her world was filled with Droid caretakers, and sentient teachers and instructors who seemed almost as frightened of her as they were of the Emperor. Mara did not giggle and chat, she gave orders, something these girls would not tolerate, she realized.
"Fear is never an option. Fear is for the weak." Mara chanted to herself as she unpacked her trunk. There were quite a few dresses and other "girly" things. Mara cringed at them and altered her mantra "I will not fail my Emperor. I will succeed. There is no room for mistakes."
"Ya-Ro!" a stern voice echoed from the hallway.
No response.
"Ya-Ro! Identify yourself! Rone Ya-Ro!"
Oh poodoo! That's me! Thought Mara as she opened the door to her room. "Here."
A native Correllian woman, late in her seasons, and (judging by her considerable size) quite used to eating well, lumbered down the long straight row between the beds of the common floor.
""Rone Ya-Ro, when you are called, you will answer. That, apparently, is the first lesson you must learn. I am not here to yell for 10 time marks while you daydream like a common dolt. I will not stand for it, and neither will your master when he calls you to entertain."
Mara quelled the indignation that was rising in her throat, and instead, answered humbly "Yes, mistress."
"Madame! All your instructors shall be addressed as Madame! Insufferable little thing! Do you know nothing?"
Mara didn't answer, and apparently, she wasn't expected to. Madame of the First Dormitory turned to leave, only turning back briefly to inform Mara that her first class was in 20 time marks. After the door closed behind her, The dorm's other occupants burst into a fit of giggles and all eyes were on their newest bunk mate: Rone Ya-Ro, the only girl who had managed to make a purple vein pop out on Madame's neck before midday.
This is going to be a difficult assignment. Mara thought to herself as she returned to her room and slammed the door behind her.
Surprisingly, Mara was well adept to the schedule. All students of her age and rank wore the same simple azure dress and those beings with hair wore it on top of their heads in a wide, loose bun. It almost seemed like a uniform to her, and she liked the familiarity of that. Mara quickly adapted to the role of "Rone", and accepted the humiliation of being a mere servant of someone other than her Emperor as a lesson in deception, a specialization that none of the other girls could claim.
In addition, once she accepted the schoolwork as a mission that the Emperor had sent her on rather than a chore, Mara found her classes to be simple and even enjoyable. She excelled in tea ceremony and conversation. Her table manners were already impeccable, and she was able to catch up to and pass her peers in languages. In a very short period of time, Rone was the darling of the school in her teachers' eyes. Not because of who she belonged to, but because of her own accomplishments and mastery of all she was taught. A true star.
Rone's success was not lost on her peers either. They soon became very aware of her favored status among teachers that they had been trying to impress for years. Many of the students had been at Gehidian since age five or six, and this girl had been among them for less than a term, and she dare to best them? It might not have been so bad had she at least tried to get along. She was their junior by experience and should have treated them with the deference they deserved, but instead she carried herself as though she was as good as anyone of them, perhaps better. The girl holed herself up in her room when she wasn't in class, and barely spoke more than two curt words to them at a time. What kind of calandra was that?
Mara was fully aware that the other girls in her dormitory avoided her, and to be honest, she preferred it that way. They were all stupid and inferior and spoke of frivolous things like hairstyles and boys and the latest fashions out of Alderaan. Mara listened and remembered all they said: which way the young princess of Alderaan wore her dark hair and how they all wished their hair was as beautiful; which diplomats attended which social functions on Coruscant and how they all wanted to see the city-planet one day (Mara smiled secretly at that: she lived on Coruscant—wouldn't they all be jealous if they knew?), and which calandra belonged to which master. Mara recognized some of the names, but most were unknown to her. She made a note to herself to look them up in the Emperor's private library when she got home.
For her part, Mara would lock herself in her room in her free time and allow herself to become Mara Jade once more. Rone Ya-Ro belonged to the school. Here in her room, Mara belonged to herself.
She spent her time furthering her language studies and practicing her combat forms: no point in allowing her dexterity to slip. Besides, when Mara made the connection between the precise hand-to-hand defense forms and the exacting motions of the Uhari tea ceremony, she was able to master it that much more quickly than her peers who had been practicing since they were five! With her newly mastered skills, she had practically been given free reign over her own activities as the school Madams saw Rone as a well disciplined and bright calandra and Mara learned the advantages of doing a job well for someone other than her master.
In addition, Mara found, pleasantly enough, that the Emperor had once again proven his infinite wisdom and care for his young charge: Mara had not once been plagued by visions of the dream-woman since her arrival on Correlia. In fact, she had become such a distant memory, that Mara was sure his Highness was right; only a monster would abandon a child. Her Emperor would never leave her, she thought with satisfaction.
Sooner than she had expected, the term came to an end, and Mara packed her trunk to be taken to the private docking bay. She made sure that she packed everything. She had not been told that she would not return to the school, but she had not been enrolled in another term yet either (as she found out by going through the headmistress' data pad in her office when the woman was entertaining company).
Outside in the dormitory itself, girls packed for their vacations home and giggled as the chatted over their plans and how pleased their masters would be when they showed off one newly learned talent or another. Holo-addresses were exchanged and confirmed to continue the gossip between friends even though the term break only lasted two standard weeks. No one asked for Rone's holo-address. Mara would have been hurt by that had she been Rone, she thought to herself, but she wasn't Rone, at least for not much longer.
Locking her trunk and slinging her bag over her shoulder, Mara did a quick once over of her room to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. Satisfied with her final inspection, she turned and exited her room into the main hall.
Outside, a house service droid awaited instructions from the daughter of the High Duke and Duchess of Amarna, Jeynn Halnikk who was still fussing over her voluminous, gauzy dresses. Mara had listened to her whine and complain all morning as her father's protocol droid packed and repacked her travel bag three times over, and her ladyship still hadn't made a final decision. Mara quelled her curiosity as to whether the overwrought protocol droid's head would explode if this went on much longer and instead motioned to the school's service droid.
"You there. I'm ready to go to the docking bay." She ordered, and the droid beeped in compliance as it began rolling towards her.
Amazingly, Jeynn suddenly ceased her half-hysterical babble as she turned fiercely golden eyes on Mara. "I am already using the droid, Rone." She said evenly as the air gills near the ears of the young semi-humanoid began to flare.
"No, you're not Jeynn. You're packing. Again. By the time my stuff is at the loading dock, and the droid is back here, you'll be done." Mara eyed the garments spread across her bed suspiciously, "Possibly."
"Who do you think you are talking to, calandra?" the air gills were fully extended now and beginning to flash with tinges of blue and orange; her frustration with her wardrobe forgotten now that she had a better target in her sights. Mara wondered briefly if this girl had any real fighting ability, but threw thought out the window as she decided to find out first hand.
"You." She replied simply. It was not said with any malice, but neither was it murmured with the deference belonging to Amarnian nobility.
Jeynn's voice was low and tight with barely restrained rage. "How dare you, you little low-life-know-nothing twit! You imposter! Coming in here and acting as though you were as good as any one of us! As good as me! You're nothing but a base calandra who is so bad at her given profession that your master never even sent you for training until you were too old! Education is wasted on you! You didn't even know the basics of the galactic tea ceremony when you came! Your mother should have known enough to train you on that! But even she realized how worthless you were and didn't waste her time! Ha! And you think waltzing in here with your nose in the air and your ugly face hidden behind your private bedroom door makes you one of us? Makes you good enough to steal a droid right out from under my chin? You'll never be one of us, no matter how the Madams pet and compliment you. You're nothing."
Somewhere between Jeynn's rising voice, and the word "nothing", Mara stopped seeing her nine-year-old age mate, and just saw blinding white rage descend in front of her eyes like a curtain. She flew forward with a scream, arms and legs flailing as all attack training fled her mind (luckily enough for her opponent). Jeynn, surprised at first, held her own as she hit back with all she had and then some. The few girls left in the room were a cacophony of frightened screams and cheers egging the combatants on. Duke Halnikk's protocol droid made feeble protests, but would've been ignored even if the girls had heard him over the noise.
As the fight continued, Mara managed to rein in some of her rage and realized the stupidity of her rashness. Fighting the daughter of nobility was rarely recommend. And fighting an opponent who was so obviously below her skill level was just plain embarrassing. Mara could defeat her easily now that her wits were about her, but she was fighting a living being, not one of the training droids, destruction was not an option. Mara switched tactics and continued the fight so that minimal damage would be done to the loathsome little brat. She would not intentionally hurt Jeynn, but she wouldn't lose the battle or concede defeat either. Mara had just yanked a hair clip from Jeynn's head, temporarily blinding the girl with her own bluish-gray hair when the high-pitched squeal of the Headmistress' whistle pierced the din. Everyone froze and looked in surprise at the doorway where the Headmistress stood. . .with the High Duke Halnikk himself.
Jeynn recovered first, standing straight and facing her father. To her credit, she did not dissolve into mushy tears, Mara noted with satisfaction before giving the Headmistress her full attention.
"What is going on here?!" the Headmistress practically screeched. She almost appeared to be trembling in her shock at the disastrous scene before her. Jeynn took the opportunity to pour out the horrible story of how the calandra Rone, had viciously attacked her over the use of a droid. She was an excellent storyteller and her voice trilled over the fierceness of the battle while her hands swept back and forth in demonstration as little lady Jeynn defended herself bravely against the lunatic animal Rone who pounced upon her prey unprovoked. As testimony to that, Jeynn motioned to the protocol droid who only moaned and softly lamented its failure to protect its mistress. Mara herself was so taken with the tale that for a moment she forgot that she was Rone and was beginning to admire Jeynn's considerable fighting skill. The storyteller's accusatory finger pointed in her direction quickly brought her back to reality. Finally, Jeynn's tale at an end, Duke Halnikk forewent the trivial formality of asking for "Rone's" side of the story as he turned to face his daughter's attacker.
"Who do you belong to, girl?" he demanded.
Mara's blood boiled in her veins and her heart swelled with anger at the impertinence of this relic of the old republic, this Duke. Never before had anyone dared to speak to her in this way. Somewhere between the humiliation and anger, Mara found her voice. With eyes of burning emeralds and a face of barely contained rage, Mara stated slowly and clearly, "I belong to myself."
Whatever effect she had expected the statement to have, it was not the sudden croaking laughter of the old man as he asked "No, really. Who?"
Mara was stunned as much at the Duke's response as at the words that had just come from her own mouth. But the shock dissolved into well-cultivated anger as the man's mocking voice continued. Allowing her eyes to harden and glow green fire as her jaw and body went battle-ready rigid, Mara repeated the blasphemous words slowly so that there would be no misunderstanding.
"I. Belong. To. Myself."
The laughter suddenly ceased and the noble Duke's eyes hardened in response to Mara's. Mara didn't have the chance to ask herself whether or not she was intimidated by the figure before her. As she watched his face quickly morph into a mask of rage, and braced herself for whatever the coming onslaught might be, a commanding voice sliced through the room.
"The girl belongs to me."
Mara turned quickly to see Japara approach from the doorway at the other end of the hall. The commanding stride and bearing of a member of the Imperial Guard quickly melting the anger on Halnikk's face, had Mara bothered to turn and see it.
Japara continued forward both physically and verbally: "The girl is mine. Any disruption she has caused can be discussed with me."
The noble Duke Halnikk stood in awe of the red cloaked figure. Though not in his formal uniform and helmet, there was no mistaking the Emperor's seal on Japara's vest, nor the distinctive cut of his claret cloak. It was rare for an Imperial guard to be seen out of uniform, but it did happen, and the sight was no less impressive. . .or intimidating.
Halnikk was a proud man, but he was not stupid. His slack jaw quickly closed itself and he remained silent. Japara cast a withering glance in Mara's direction as though he were truly angry with her, but Mara had forgotten Rone Ya-Ro long ago and returned the gaze. In a moment, she could see that he really was upset with her and though she didn't know why, tendrils and whispers of her erroneous statement moments before echoed in her memory and stabbed straight at her mind and heart.
Betrayer!
She had betrayed her beloved Emperor with her treacherous statement. Thrown away the precious gift of his care and training with her careless words. Mara's soul retched at the realization, but her face remained impassive as Japara "dealt" with the High Duke of Amarna. The sound of his voice was like the wordless drone of an engine deep within the bowels of a ship as Mara's conscience slipped away from the situation at hand even as her eyes darted between the Imperial Guard and the Republican relic in rapt attention during the exchange. Her focus was elsewhere.
Soon, Mara found herself following five steps behind Japara, like an obedient, subservient calandra, with the school's service droid carrying her trunk beside her. They arrived at the loading dock in silence, and Mara entered the shuttlecraft after Japara while the droid efficiently loaded the trunk in the ship's storage room. Nothing was said until the craft's pilot got clearance to take off and Japara had been satisfied that the appropriate course had been set so that they would arrive back on Coruscant on schedule. It was only then that Japara addressed the Emperor's ward who had taken her position by one of the few, small view ports that dotted the hull of the craft.
"Quite an interesting day, Mara." He said solemnly.
Mara started at the use of her true name, but quickly recovered, hoping that the weakness hadn't been noticed by one who would report directly to Palpatine. She turned towards him and replied with equal tone: "It was as interesting as interesting goes in such a boorish place."
Short and to the point, Japara thought, but the twitch the girl had made did not go unnoticed to his trained eye. What Emperor Palpatine was doing with a jumpy little ward that was to be trained as an entertainer was beyond his understanding, but then, it was not his place to question his Emperor. Not his place at all. He turned and took his leave of the girl to attend to more important matters with no word of "goodbye". She was just a child after all, and a servant below him, he was sure. There was no need for formality. He was merely the babysitter.
If she took offence, the girl didn't show it. She had other things on her mind. Thoughtful green eyes returned to the view port. In a short while she would have to face her lord and master. In a short while, he would know, somehow, of her temporary disloyalty. He would know that she had failed him, and it made Mara heartsick. What made it worse was the momentary feeling of confidence and strength those four careless words had given her. It was proof in her mind that she was not worthy of serving her Emperor.
Mara stared blankly out at the vast expanse of space; her earlier words echoing empty and hollow in her brain.
"I belong to myself."
She had almost believed it.
Almost.
The End