A/N: Natasi Daala. You hate her or you love her. Sometimes it feels like there is no middle ground when it comes to her person. I never `liked´ her, but I also think that her story is a truly fascinating one. She was the first female character in the EU in a higher position within the Empire. She was beautiful and ruthless and filled with lots of hatred. But her backstory has so much to offer. With Daala we would have a chance to understand the genesis of an Imperial officer. And to show some of the shades of grey. And yesterday I just thought: If Disney would write a book about her – Daala – Oh my God, I would totally love it! Well, Daala is a `legend´ now and I don't think we will ever get that book. So, here is a very, very short version of how such a book might have looked like. In my world. ;) Most of the events are based on what I could find out about her at wookiepedia and other things are completely made up and some stuff I left out or tweaked a bit to fit my story better. Anyways, enjoy!

DAALA

There are only two things that shape your life: The people around you and your attitude towards them. My name is Natasi Daala and this is my story.

I was born twenty years before the battle of Yavin on a planet called Irnmenu. Irnmenu is a beautiful, lash, oceanic planet in the Belsmuth sector in the Outer Rim Territories, which was more or less isolated from the rest of the galaxy for over a millennia. Not many people know about it.

One of the reasons might be that Irnmenu was, and still is, a feudal world. An antagonistic world in interstellar times in more than one regard. I was told that I had been born a Princess, a minor one - though still a Princess, but I have never known such life. Alas, it might have been the knowledge alone that made me believe that I was born to be something more and that things had been stolen from me.

I was too small to remember what really happened, but one of the sisters once told me that my family had been rich and influential. Daala. There had been a time that name had stood for integrity, honesty, respect and compassion. A noble name for a noble seafaring family. My father had been a good man, living by his principals, helping the poor and standing true to his word. The people loved him. The same people who later followed House Dubar. Dubar. Ever since I first heard that name, it filled my heart with rage. They had used my family's moment of weakness and put a brutal end to its reign. My family…. all of them were publicly executed: Mother, father and my two older brothers. Hanged, drawn and quartered and their body parts were publicly displayed afterwards, dangling from the castle walls in all four directions to show what happened to the enemies of House Dubar. The story might have ended there, had it not been for the youngest son of that family, Stern Dubar, who took pity on me. He convinced his parents that it was against the will of the Gods to kill an innocent baby, so instead, he brought me to a Botajef orphanage. A grave mistake.

I remember my time on Botajef with hatred. Botajef is a planet in the same sector, but its inhabitants are almost exclusively Jefi. This humanoid, but still very much insectoid-looking, sentient species can be pitied at best, as they submit themselves completely to the most competent or more often most ruthless ruler. Like they have no pride at all. I guess it goes without saying that such a mindset was an invitation neither Humans nor Hutts could resist for long.

My orphanage, however, was run by Human nuns, who originally came from Renatasia III, which they left due to religious persecution, which was all fair and square as their faith was extreme, and in its core came down to two things: Loyalty and obedience, which fit well to the Jefi. Obedience. That was the way they educated us too. And if you didn't follow the rules, there was punishment. The sisters hit us, let us starve for days, or locked us up in a dark room.

Stern Dubar couldn't have chosen a worse place for me, for what I learned was that violence ruled the world and power was everything.

Oh yes, I cried. A lot. I was beaten. A lot. I was locked up. A lot. I made a friend. And I lost a friend. Sometimes I thought the Dubars paid extra to make me cry or to make sure I wouldn't survive my childhood. But I survived. I survived illness and violence. I survived the broken heart of a child that was unable to understand why it wasn't loved. I survived the strange looks of the other children, who, without exception, were treated better than I was. I survived loneliness. I survived being tricked, scrubbing toilets, cold bedsheets and writing until my fingers bled. I survived, but I also grew stronger.

And I learned. No true orphanage is without school and if anything, knowledge was what I sought. I studied religion, which was the sisters' main focus, but I also studied the useful things, often in my free time, more than I was supposed to: Reading, Writing, Maths, History, Science. For I had a goal: revenge.

I remember graduation like it was yesterday. It was the first day I truly felt happy. I was 18 years of age and my suitcase was so empty only an orphan one's can be. The galaxy was so bright and so large. It was overwhelming. I tried a normal life. I worked in a real estate office on Corellia for a year, but it didn't work, as for as much as I'd hated the life in the orphanage, it was all I had ever known. Rules and structures and punishment. The only solace I found was in shockball. A sport in which I quickly ravished. A valve for my anger. I had joined the club to make some friends, or at least to get to know some people, but my hard style and my determination to win stood in the way. All in all, during that one year I felt more lost than ever. So, can you truly blame me when I saw the flashy lights of the adverts? I guess all of us who are fortunate enough to have survived the age of the civil war remember the slogan:

Join the Empire. Explore new worlds. Learn valuable skills. Bring order and unity to the galaxy . Be a part of something. Join the Empire .´

It was three years before the battle of Yavin when I enrolled at Carida Academy and I was 19 years at the time, but younger inside.

My shockball training, and the self-defense classes I had taken after a recommendation of my boss, turned out to be useful right in the first round of the selection process. I was a small woman, yet I sent most of my male opponents home with blue and black bruises. I was overjoyed when I got accepted and I thought that I knew hardship and that the military would be perfect for me.

I was so naïve… Yes, I knew hardship. But there is more than one kind. You see life in the orphanage, with the nuns, had isolated me from the outside for too long and I was a child when it came to politics and men.

They shaved my head and with my long, brown locks, I left my past behind. The basic training was hard with a minimum of 13 push-ups, 47 sit-ups, and a two-mile run in under 19 minutes to start the day. Let's say I struggled and my drill sergeant had a good time yelling at me.

We started with a couple of females, but most of them left by their own accord after the first months. At first, I shared a room with another woman, Lara, and once she left, I had the room all to myself, which was nice too. And her constant whaling had been going on my nerves anyway. Lara had been weak, blaming others for her shortcomings instead of pushing herself harder.

A mistake I did not make. I trained and I studied. And I studied while I trained. I had no friends and I didn't miss them. But what I hated was the lack of respect against females everywhere. In the mess hall, there were separate tables. Those for soldiers and those for females and aliens. I always felt like those two categories were more or less on the same level.

I was ridiculed at first. Being laughed at. That I could handle. The real trouble started when I got better than my male counterparts. When my results threatened their pride.

The first time I was beaten up behind a cargo box. Two guys held me and the third beat me up. They told me to have worse results in the tests or they would come and visit me again. Of course, I made the same mistake everyone makes first: I went to my superior officer. He asked me whether I wanted special treatment because I was a woman. Other cadets would have to fight their own battles too.

The second time I was prepared and set them up beautifully, so they ended up attacking not just me, but also our instructor, Commander Visk. It didn't end well for them and it also had the nice side-effect that the Commander, my rescuer, noticed me once more.

Of course he had done so before, he was a man after all and most of my female comrades could just as well have been named Bob. Anyway, from the moment I was on Visk's radar, things became better. Or so I thought. I liked Visk, I really did, that was until he handed me my orientation chart. I was supposed to become a Stormtrooper. Everything inside me rebelled at the outlook. I had not enrolled to become a stormtrooper! Visk tried to calm me down, making it sound better than it really was. My combat skills and self-discipline would be perfect. I could start my own female division. Bad for Visk that my aspirations were higher than that. I ended our friendship, if one might call it that and started to look for a solution. And rightfully so. If I had been born a man, I would have joined officer's training right away, I was sure of it. I would not give up.

I filed a case against my result and was then assigned to do my specialization in `administration´, not what I wanted, but better than Stormtrooper. Like that, I became the `personal assistant´ of Captain Misato, head of the Academy's `Naval strategy and battle simulations´ faculty. Sounds fancy, but in fact I was nothing but a secretary: making coffee and handling the Captain's busy schedule. However, while working with Misato I had the chance to accompany him to some meetings and I also had to program the battle simulations for the students who specialized in naval strategy. It didn't take long and I was hooked. I loved it. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I sneaked into the simulation room and then I was the Captain of a huge Star Destroyer, where my word was law and nobody would dare to defy me and if they did, I destroyed them.

I witnessed the pitiful results of many students in those simulations and became more and more frustrated with my own position, until, at one point, I had an idea. I created an alias and like that Natasi Daala became Nikolai Dabrowsky. Carida Academy is a large institution where most things are handled digitally and most instructors don't even know their students. They are just numbers. And it didn't take long until student 9780345 caught Massimo Tagge's eye. He wanted Nikolai Dabrowsky in his prestigious naval strategy cadet program.

I don't think I have ever been that nervous in my life, neither before nor after. The program was small and selected, so Tagge would know I was female. To my surprise, he was not as angry as he should have been and actually praised my ingenuity, which he also admired in my simulations. Well, I wouldn't have been that lenient, but he could afford it. You see, the Tagge family owns TaggeCo, a popular food company, and some mines on Lucazec. In short: They are big money and so Massimo could afford a pet-female in his program without much resistance. The year I spend with Tagge wasn't easy though. I always felt like for everything I got, I had to work twice as hard as my male comrades, and after I had successfully published my first strategic paper, I was raped in the shower after my daily workout by an unknown offender. I was a competent fighter but didn't stand a chance against him. He was never found. But that's how things are in the military.

If anything, my resolve got stronger, which wasn't always good. I was young and hurt and less balanced than I am today. My motto was winning no matter what, which also showed in my papers and simulations. I won – with high costs: In men, material and moral. So, after graduation, the wish for good a position, was not fulfilled. I had failed, at least by my own standards.

Yes, I ended up on a Star Destroyer. As a corporal. And far away from the bridge. I was in charge of the kitchen staff, making sure the crew had enough to eat. In other words, I was where a woman should be.

My savior was an unlikely one: Grand Moff Tarkin. I was completely unprepared when the famous Grand Moff approached me one day. In the kitchen. I'm sure I must have gaped at him like a fish. As it turned out, Massimo had given my file to his cousin, Gerneral Cassio Tagge, who at the time worked with Tarkin on Project Star Dust. Apparently, I had made an impression on the General, who then recommended me to his superior. It sounded surreal.

Finally, things changed in my favor. Because of one man: Wilhuff Tarkin. He took me out of the kitchen and added me to his personal stuff. He helped me, supported me, and soon I became a Commander. And for the first time, I knew how it felt to be respected. Feared. I was finally on the other side. Did he do it for free? Of course not. Tarkin was not that kind of man.

Yes, we were lovers. And for many that's all I'll ever be; Admiral Daala, the former lover of Grand Moff Tarkin. The woman who slept her way up. Well, let them talk, I know it's not true and anyone who ever met Wilhuff will know it too. He would never have supported my career the way he did if he hadn't believed in me.

And it wasn't love either. For people like us `love´ is an unreal concept or a memory of times long since past. I for one have never known true love. But I liked him. Tarkin never treated me like all the others had done. He respected me and my abilities and he gave me the chance to become what I wanted, to fulfill my destiny, to have my revenge. On Dubar, the Renatasian nuns, and all the others who had ever wronged me. And he… Well, he was older than me, a lot older, but for many men, those urges never fade and for men with power this is even more true and the wife he had only married for her money, had lost her beauty long ago. No, it wasn't love, but it was something. And for that something, I will avenge him.

People call me a whore and a brutal slayer with no conscience. Very well. But I am also Admiral Daala. And I will be more than a footnote in history.

THE END