Zairo tried to wipe the sweat from his face, the room's temperature rapidly rising. His handcuffed hands darted to the now-empty belt, searching for his lightsaber.

Bail smiled at Zairo, "My boy, it may be wise of you to get rid of your lightsaber. You may feel safer with it, but without it nobody will know what you really are."

The words clung to the boy, 'what you really are'. Being a Jedi has always been dangerous, even before the purge, but now it was seen as a crime. One deemed worse than being a smuggler or a pirate. Zairo looked at the silver hilt, which was held securely in his belt. Then he slowly pulled it out; finally he placed it into the garbage chute, which was nearby. He looked at the chute, as if waiting for the force to pull it out. His whole life destroyed by a garbage compactor.

The Emperor watched Zairo struggling to find his weapon,"There is no escape, the Empire is merciless. You are now mine. Your life belongs to me. When Lord Vader arrives he will take you to Lothal, there you will be trained."

The young Jedi quickened his breathing, his heart racing as he realised that there was nothing he could do. As he took a deep breath, trying to calm down, Palpatine released Zairo from his handcuffs. They fell to the floor, breaking the stiff silence. Zairo brought his hand to his ear, it had bled severely after the blaster shot.

"You must learn to channel your pain, the more powerful it is, the stronger you will become."

Zairo knew the ways of falling to the Darkside. Master Yoda had gone through them on a regular basis. Fear lead to Anger, Anger leads to Hate, Hate leads to Suffering. And once you've gone that far, even the wisest Jedi would be consumed by the Darkness.