Edgar: Communal bathrooms are nice . . . until people start stealing your facewash and leaving your wet clothes on the washer . . . ;)

Limelight: No, I don't think Leia's trained for this at all ;) Thanks!

Summers2004: Well, here's to a (hopefully) better day for you! Thanks!

An image of dark capes and round torture droids haunted Leia's sleep that night, penetrating her rest as thoroughly as a knife. She first relived the Death Star torture sessions,in partmemory but mostly triggered by irrational fears and a clouded haze that surrounded her physical body and mental capacity both. Her movements were sluggish, unable to resist the drugs as they raced through a system untouched by such commanding and conquering influences. Her eyes felt milky, as if they were melting from within her sockets, her limbs beyond control or movement, her mouth as if her lips had been squeezed together by duracrete blocks.

She couldn't scream. Couldn't run. Couldn't breathe.

The feeling was greatly exaggerated in the dream, Leia's conscious mind argued. She had always been able to breathe.

Suddenly her perspective shifted, and in front of her stood a ball of forest and lake, of sunsets and peace, of home. The ball grew in significance to her: an emblem for her dreams, her desires, her future. Her parents, one alive, one lost, so encompassed in the ball that it glowed and shone as it never had in actuality. A ball wrapped in her brain so firmly it sometimes hurt merely to hear its name spoken.

Leia jerked awake, right foot slamming into the bedpost with an onrush of pain. She hardly felt it. A dream. She wiped a hand across a sweat-ridden forehead, brushed back strings of moist hair, and then placed the hand on her stomach, which was rolling and tumbling in an inexhaustible tirade of nerves. Her limbs were shaking, her eyes full of tears that pummeled down the sides of her nose.

Closing her eyes, Leia turned over onto her side and slowed her breathing down to an acceptable rate. It's a dream, just a dream. She sighed. And a familiar one at that.

Calm.

Peace.

Tranquility.

Revenge.

They will someday pay.

Slightly comforted, she lapsed into periods hesitatingly termed sleep between dreams of torture and home. Both as chilling as the other.

"How did you sleep, Rims?"

Leia looked up from her toast and nodded carefully to Ivoen, who had ventured the first bit of conversation all morning. "Okay, I guess. I still hate that bed."

Her roommate nodded and chuckled. "I don't know how they expect us to lay out on those things." The smile shifted slightly and her forehead creased. "Seriously, though, how did you sleep?"

Leia cautiously looked up and studied the girl across from her. "I'm fine. Why?"

"Uh, well, you seemed restless last night. I don't know." She paused for a second, then smiled enthusiastically at Leia. "Nothing."

What? Leia wanted to scream to her. What did I say or do? What do you know? "What are your classes today?"

"I have three. Sector History, some stupid introduction class to Political Science" She grimaced. "I hate that crap. It's awful. And, uh, I have Human Psych."

Leia nodded distractedly. What names did I give? Who did I compromise? Stribur? Myself? "I have that class with you, right? What time?"

Ivoen checked her datapad. "Uh, three-sixteen." She paused. "Three-sixteen? Why sixteen? Why not a normal time, like at the hour or the half?"

What about Solo? Luke? "I don't know. It's kind of ridiculous, though, really." The base? Other sleeper agents within the system? "Well, I guess I'll see you at three-sixteen then. No earlier. No later."

Ivoen smiled. "Good luck today."

Leia nodded. "Yeah, you, too."

You're gonna need it . . .

"We find ourselves at a crossroads of immense importance in the history of public opinion and politics. Now, more than ever, this class is vitally valuable to become a person of knowledge and understanding in our galaxy. Do you support the Emperor or the Rebellion? Freedom or chaos? Military or civil liberties? Who was Grand Moff Tarkin? Who is Mon Mothma? What is Lord Vader's real position within the Empire? Where exactly is Leia Organa in the galaxy now?"

I'm in the top four at least. While she was somewhat surprised at the stunning introduction Professor Nusirreh-Duil had presented for her, herself a relic and exceptional player of this particular series of events, she was able to find the humor of the situation.

I'm discussion material in a university contemporary concerns class. She smirked. I'm moving up in the universe. Even Solo'd be impressed with that one.

"You."

Leia lifted her eyes to gaze at another pair, aimed directly at herself with an expression of annoyance and superiority. "What?"

"Can you answer the question?" His eyes narrowed menacingly.

College student. Annoying, precocious, flippant. "Sure, if you give it to me again." That wasn't too bad, huh?

"The Treaty of Silloesriv ended what military engagement?"

"Rew Dlruw I." The second the name was out of her mouth, she knew she had made a critical error. Are you trying to screw this up for yourself? Why can't you just be stupid and get over yourself?

Professor Nusorreh-Duil blinked at her answer. C'mon, I'm just a punk kid. Ignore me.

Leia had no such luck. "What is your name?"

Dammit. "Rimmas Stribur."

He took a breath. "Ms. Stribur, you are quite right." Thank the gods for a professor without an ego complex. "I do wish to inquire as to why you know the answer before we've covered it here in class."

College student. Be a college student. "I had a good teacher in prep school."

He paused and looked her over with a critical eye. Seeming to decide she was nothing out the ordinary, Nusorreh-Duil continued on his lecture. "As Ms. Stribur has shared with us, several historical events have brought us to where we are now. Where would the Emperor be now without the fated Naboo-Trade Federation War? How is it possible to – "

"Chemistry is the singly most fascinating subject in the galaxy." Professor Noelribmehc paused as if he expected an agreeing rally to occur right then and there. "We of course do not expect to reach a great deal of subject matter during this term. We understand you are not as, erm, stimulated by the basic structure of the universe as we are." He paused again. "But nothing can prevent you from having a basic understanding of it." He squeaked rapidly and coughed into his lab jacket sleeve. Was that a laugh? "You are indeed in the right place, ladies and – " another cough " – gentlemen. And I feel that the first step in your new love affair with the elements is an introduction to them."

Flinging his decayed and spotted hand upwards, Noelribmehc brought attention to the enormous chart above his head. At dimensions rivaling, in Leia's mind, the Death Star, the chart of symbols and numbers brightened as small lights lit.

"This, ladies and – " cough " – gentleman, is what science fans like you and I call the Periodic Table of the Elements." He touched a switch and the lights in the forum muted significantly. "As you see, we have approximately four thousand and eighteen known elements, although about ninety-seven percent of these can only be manufactured in a laboratory, and only for the briefest of moments." He grinned toothily, the yellowed view giving Leia the sudden inclination to retch. "Our basic understanding of the element comes from a basic understanding of the atom, which has progressed significantly – " cough " – from our knowledge of it only a thousand years ago. Back then, we based our theories on the movements of electrons and idiotically were fascinated by such a simplistic model, termed Quantum Mechanics, an idea that hindered us intellectually for centuries . . . "

"I don't care about you. Or your grades. Or my job. I'm tenured. You couldn't fire me even if you wanted to."

The class sat back in abject discomfort. Leia hid a grin. This guy is channeling Jan Dodonna, I'm sure of it.

"This is general human psychology. For all you idiots who have decided that there are other things more interesting than the working of the human psyche." He snorted. "Hopeless artists and socially-inept scientists that you are. We'll start next class with some basic terms and people to know; crap like the schools of thought. Behavioral, psychodynamic, sociocultural, cognitive, you get the idea. People, the big ones: Dairf, Rinnoks, Vulvep and his nerfs. Come back, know them."

There was silence as he unfolded his coat and put it on. Eventually, one tentative hand rose.

"Yes?" The Dodonna-clone sounded annoyed.

"Um, Sir, uh, are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I am. You have a problem with that?"

The Bothan who raised his hand squirmed back into his seat. "No," he squeaked out.

"Good. This class is over; I have a lunch with my wife in about ten minutes. Enjoy the early release, I usually keep you about ten minutes later than scheduled." He headed toward the door, stopped right before he slapped the control. "Oh, by the way, my name's Lingni. Welcome to whatever hell you believe in." And with a swift wink, he left the stunned room.

"Well." Leia turned towards Ivoen, who looked like she'd just been chosen Palpatine's concubine. "That was fun."

Ivoen nodded, her lips parted and a ragged breath leaving her.

Leia laughed. "C'mon. Let's get something to eat." And with a swift glance around, a quick assurance that no black-suited, masked terror stood behind her, she grabbed Ivoen's arm and began to drag her towards the door.

Amusing coincidence number 5829: Last night I put on my roommate's pink nailpolish and only now realized the amusing elements of that. (Note to self, take the pink off . . . )

KR