"LEIA!"

That blood-curdling shriek would have woken anyone. And it did. All along the corridor that served as sleeping quarters; the disgruntled grumbles might not have been heard but they were there all the same.

Rey's deep, rejuvenating sleep (the first of any quality or value in quite a while) had stemmed from a still fully clothed "quick lie down". Until this happened. This eruption of sheer panicked anguish.

The young scavenger-turned-Jedi trundled the corridor, leaping over floor-level obstacles (like small droids and maintenance kits) and swerving around curious onlookers with eyes full of frantic tears. Many asked what was wrong, if she was alright; she heard none of them. She had one thought lodged firmly at the forefront of her mind and it consisted solely of: Leia… I have to find Leia…

As luck (or the Force) would have it, she found the General a lot sooner than she expected; almost bolting headfirst into the like-burdened female, only a stone's throw from Leia's quarters.

"I know, Rey…" Leia's trademark soothing confidence shook like her voice; disturbed and troubled to no idea by a similar vision and organ-tightening feeling that had reduced Luke's strong apprentice to an absolute ruin.

The older woman extended her arms and let Rey decide if an embrace would be suffocating or comforting. She decided the latter.

"I know. I felt it too…" Leia, ever the epitome of strength and decorum, felt herself crumble internally but minimized the trauma and hurt that she displayed to her troops; this… this was another blow, and not just to her as a warrior for liberty, justice and freedom from tyranny.

Snoke had always been the bogeyman. He had been the one that haunted her toddler's nightmares and plagued him with voices in his head. Hell, he had even plagued Leia when she was expecting Ben; his power raw and desirable even then. In everything she and Han had done to help, support and protect him (including sending him to Luke), it had all been for nought. Now… Snoke was gone and by Ben's own hand.

It should have been call for celebration. For jubilation. For joy and relief. But Leia (and the harrowed Rey) could only taste foreboding. For themselves. For the Resistance. For the galaxy.

Instead of the storm clouds lifting, they gathered darker and denser. It meant something worse. And Ben, free of his strings, was completely in control of it.

The new Grand Marshal had a choice that night.

He could turn left, or he could turn right.

If he turned left, he would be faced with the room where his wife and daughter slept.

Or he could turn right, hang onto his bile and make good on his threat of sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Tired and weary from gleeful plotting with his latest (and most unlikely) ally, Grand Marshal Orion Hux felt fatigue pulling. So, he followed it.

"There are some things I wish to explain to you…"

The little female did not answer but, wakeful and docile, he knew he had her attention.

That (almost) unique shade of blue watched him with that darling, endearing curiosity that he never seemed to tire of; that fascination was shared.

"I know I may have frightened you today, and I know I said some harsh things. But you must understand, Lilia, that your mother put both you and herself in remarkable danger." Orion had undressed and re-dressed for bed as quietly as he could. By some miracle, he hadn't woken Lucilla when he clambered into his own side, and again when he pried his daughter from her chest and settled her onto his own. No doubt she would wake soon when she hazily realized the tranquilizing weight of her child was missing.

"I cannot fathom, my darling, what I would have done if something happened to you; either of you. It simply does not bear thinking about. I almost lost your mother before; I don't think I could stand to do it again… And you thrown into the bargain, my angel… My life would be meaningless. Utterly pointless." Was it only a few short weeks ago that Orion had discontentedly prowled Supremacy upon the news that his child had not been a boy? That he had written off this little thing that he placidly lay chest to chest with, nose to nose with, as a waste of time? A sickly thing to be hidden away? He needed to remind himself and ask Ren to punch him for it. Maybe he should have taken Keir up on his threat and allowed him to break his teeth.

"Please… Do not take this as selfish bleating, little one. My feelings would be nothing in comparison to your fear and helplessness; I learned that the hard way the last time. But know this, Lilia: I would want to prevent it from happening at all. That is why I was so overcome with rage and, I admit, perhaps I was a little severe. But how else will she know? How else will she learn? I know, I may have spoiled her but… hopefully you will never need to know why." Orion couldn't see her for the darkness, merely a shadow and an outline, but he knew she lay on her back to support a baby that was no longer there; that gave ease to her chest that she had yet to notice. "It came back to bite me tonight. I've done her no favours."

Lilia could not move far or much without assistance; she needed her father's strong but caring hand to adjust her position but she could shuffle and wriggle minimally on her own. It was those small movements that prevented Orion closing his eyes and dropping off like his body ached to do.

This little girl, this infant was going to be a princess. And not just his princess, she was already that and manipulated him accordingly, whether she knew it or meant it or not. She would be a queen.

No... More than that...

An Empress.

Empress Lilia, First of Her Name. Lilia the Kind. Lilia the Gentle. Lilia the Strong. Her Grace. Her Imperial Majesty. And she would learn it all from watching her mother, the first of a new age under the First Order.

Orion held his little one close, enveloped by the cool, calming darkness of a humble, family apartment aboard a Star Destroyer; a relatively undistinguished beginning for such a promising future.

But if that was true for anyone, it was the first in line that slumbered at his side; oblivious to his presence and still fresh from his scolding.

Keir resisted the urge to puke. How, he still did not know. Perhaps every atom and fibre of his being poured its focus into unravelling what he had just seen, just heard; so much so that even puking would steal too much attention from trying to figure out what the fuck he had just witnessed.

"This can't be happening…" Poe was murmuring at his side; shaking his head in trauma but, like everyone else, unable to tear his eyes from the projection. "All the systems on the fence… This'll sway them. And take back ones we've helped, ones we've freed…"

The olive-skinned pilot had gone past the point of bewilderment, of incomprehension. He had already uttered the predictable defences: She doesn't know what she's saying… They made her do it… She wouldn't do this to us if she had a choice… But the more Poe watched, the more his gut crushed when he realized he was wrong. She knew exactly what she was saying, what she broadcast to the entirety of the galaxy; to systems and planets on both sides. No one made her do it, she did so of her volition with vengeance burning in her blood. Her husband had told her long ago that she always had a choice and she had made this one herself; right down to the wording.

When the broadcast of a beautiful young woman, marred by cuts, and bruises, telling only a half truth ended, every member of the Resistance seemed to be holding the same breath. They could practically feel the seismic shift of support heave in the opposite direction as the semi-lie spilled; trickling into every crevice and tainting the ordinary every day support the plucky rebels relied on, fuelling the idea that maybe, just maybe, the Resistance was not all that it seemed.

"You." Keir, in his demented distraction, took a second to realize the disgusted hiss had come from directly beside him. When he followed it with doleful, ageing eyes, he found his nephew: burning and vehement. "You did this."

"Poe…"

"YOU DID THIS!" Poe might have retreated a few steps, but not for restraint; either to take a better run at his uncle or get a better shot, he hadn't decided yet. Actually… Maybe that wasn't quite true. He'd made up his mind once he'd put enough loathing space between them. "YOU DID THIS! THIS IS A DEATH SENTENCE FOR THE RESISTANCE, YOU HEAR ME?! YOU'VE KILLED WHAT WE'VE FOUGHT FOR! FOR WHAT YOUR OWN SISTER DIED FOR!" Mentioning Shara did not improve matters. Not for Keir, and not for Leia.

"COMMANDER!" Leia bawled over the pandemonium that had erupted in the briefing room upon the unsanctioned drawing of a blaster. Perhaps more than a few found themselves agreeing with Poe's stance and most of those felt their blaster arm itch towards their own holsters. Sensibly, they waited to see Poe's outcome before drawing too.

"General."Despite the pure, unadulterated, unwavering revulsion that Poe started down the barrel of his blaster with, he still managed to address Leia with the evenness and respect she deserved. "Permission to execute a traitor."

Poe Dameron could not count how many times he had drawn his blaster over the years when he preferred to fight from the cockpit of an X-Wing. But amongst those rarities, he looked enough to take sufficient aim, fire a blast to disable and seldom (if ever) killed someone; he certainly never meant to. He had never stared down the length of the barrel at a target with such contempt, hatred and purpose enough to want to kill the person on the other end; First Order or otherwise. Until now.

"DENIED. YOU SHOOT HIM AND I'M PUTTING YOU IN THE STOCKADE FOR MURDER AND DISOBEYING A DIRECT ORDER!" Nothing, no movement. So, Leia tried again without the military context. "POE, YOU PUT DOWN THAT GODDAMNED BLASTER RIGHT NOW! SOMEONE TAKE THAT BLASTER!" Finn did, elbowing his way to his friend and gently prying the weapon from flight-gifted hands; Poe let him do it, but not without so much as blinking to break that violent gaze.

"Take him outside!" Leia barked at Finn, who had already started to take Poe's arm while Rey stepped around to the other side to take the other and escort the revenge-stiff pilot from the briefing room. "He needs to cool down!"

"He's right…"

General Leia Organa, sympathetic and compassionate, sat in a quiet, empty room; save, of course, for the miserable smuggler who had had a dose of abuse hurled his way. And almost a blaster bolt.

"He was upset." The princess-turned-General countered with a twinge of pity massaging her features. "He didn't mean it, Keir. He-"

"Stop makin' excuses, Leia. The kid was right. It was my fault." Glassy eyed and staring at the floor, the large, imposing form of Keir Bey had never been less so. Instead, he sagged with dejection and pain similar to that of a family pet no longer wanted or loved. "I should've listened to you when you told me to wait. He was right. My sister'd turn in her grave."

Leia's lips pursed but she did not argue. Maybe Poe wasn't entirely off the mark with some of his accusations and bringing his dead mother up had been too far; but she would never forget watching Keir during the ordeal and how he neither pleaded for his life or made a move to defend himself from the blaster wielded by his own nephew. Silence rang and deafened the two, despite the usually restless and busy Resistance base, all was quiet and unnaturally still. Was it a sign of things to come? Leia hoped not.

"I know it's a long shot…" Yanking herself from her reverie, the General found her grief-stricken companion had hauled himself out of his sorry slump and risen. As he spoke, he checked his person for his equipment to ensure nothing was left behind. "But if I'm not here, if I'm not partta this anymore, they might leave you lot alone. Come after me and only me. So, I'm gonna go and do what I can."

Leia could not and would not forget all the holes Keir Bey had gotten them out of in the past. Whether it was running supplies illegally to some of their more remote outposts while in the middle of a legitimate job, or keeping his ear cocked in some of the galaxy's seediest cantinas, he had done plenty for the cause.

But this… this…

"I understand, Keir." She acknowledged; ringed hands clasped in her lap while she watched him ready to depart. It's not easy to lose a soldier, especially a good one when numbers and morale are down; but if she didn't lose this one (who opted to leave voluntarily), she would lose more, and morale would plummet further. "Please believe me when I say I didn't want it to end like this."

"Far as I can see, I'm savin' us both somethin' uglier." The guilt-hoarse smuggler reasoned with a shrug; the movement looking funny with the slouch, his body usually fitting the entirety of his trench coat. "Again, I can't tell ya how sorry I am. If you think of a way I can make it up, y'know how to find me, but if not, stay strong, Leia. And take care of Poe for me. He's all I've got left, even if he doesn't want t'know me."