A/N: Thanks to everyone for their comments and encouragement. Here is the next chapter.

Chapter 4

The company stumbled through the door to the sparse, yet welcome safety of Ben's former abode, exhausted after their ordeal, yet exuberant over the success of the day. It was a small hut, only two small rooms with a cooking area and sonic fresher, causing all to feel crowded. Even so, it was welcome, a haven in the storm that still raged on outside, a respite from the horrors of the gangster and the fight against the Emperor, to which they knew they must soon return.

As the group relaxed, they began to move about, speaking of their experiences and the events of the day, plans for the future. Luke glanced around the room, watching with amusement as the group began to remove their outer gear. They looked a fright, the sweat of the day mixed with sand and dust to form a grime he was all too familiar with – Tatooine was not a planet for the overly fastidious. Small piles of dust began to form on the floor, shaken out of hair, clothes and fur, stirred about by the movements of the companions; it formed drifts and waves, particles eddying on the air currents.

"All right, everyone," Luke stated, "first things first. Let's all get cleaned up and changed, then we'll eat and plan our next move."

At the general agreement with his suggestion, Luke continued. "We can let the ladies use the fresher first, and then the men can have a go. Han, you will have some extra clothes on the Falcon. Arica…"

At the mention of her name, the group quieted, switching their focus to the one member who had not yet said anything nor made any movement. She was standing near the door, seemingly too uncertain to enter further into the cramped space of the hut, hair splayed out wildly by the wind and sand, arms wrapped around herself protectively. Unlike on the skiff, when the attention had been focused on her, this time she was aware of their scrutiny and to Luke's eyes looked immediately uncomfortable. She collected herself, however, and scowled back at the group, a challenging expression etched on her grime-streaked face.

"Leia, don't you have some clothes that would fit Arica?" Luke asked, breaking the silence. At once, the tension which seemed to have built up in the room abated, alleviated by the Jedi's calm and controlled words.

"Sure, Luke," Leia responded, gazing curiously at the red-haired woman. "Come with me, Arica."

Arica stared at them momentarily, before acquiescing with a slight shrug, and moved to join Leia as she entered the adjacent room. As she moved past Luke, she brushed up against him, causing him to start slightly at the contact; the feel of her silky soft dancing outfit, combined with the smoothness of her skin, raised the hairs on the back of his hand, causing sensations he was not certain he should be having, new as their acquaintance was.

Luke stared after her, all the thoughts he had had about her presence in Jabba's palace, her Force sensitivity and the touch of her consciousness now once again careening through his mind. And what was this connection between them – what did it all mean?

He was startled out of his thoughts by a loud snort and turned toward his companions, who were regarding him with amused expressions.

"I tell you, kid, you sure know how to pick them," Han said with a chuckle. "Come on; we can use the sonic fresher in the Falcon also."

With a last glance toward the entrance to the other room, Luke turned and followed his friends, Han's amused laughter haunting him the entire way.


Mara stood in the middle of the room, watching as the princess rummaged through her clothes and feeling awkward and out of place. Although Leia had not as yet said anything to her, she seemed to feel as ill-at-ease as Mara herself, although Mara could not say for certain. Even if Organa was not Force sensitive herself, she had a strong and well-ordered mind, one that Mara could not penetrate to read her thoughts without some effort – the only thing she was able to determine was the princess's emotions, wariness and distrust foremost among them. Forcing herself into Organa's mind to find out more would bring Skywalker down on her immediately, so she watched the other woman closely, relying on her observation coupled with the Force to enhance her perceptions.

The princess glanced up from her search, holding out a simple set of clothes – a white blouse and black pants. "These should fit you," she stated.

Mara accepted the clothes without comment, letting them fall out to their full length as she held them to her body. Skywalker had been right – she and the princess were roughly the same size, Mara perhaps a little taller, and of a similar slim, but athletic build.

"Thank you," Mara said simply, wanting to at least appear to try and fit in with the group.

She looked up and noticed Leia gazing at her with frank curiosity. "I saw you in the throne room, dancing for Jabba." At Mara's nod of assent, Leia continued, "You seemed… different than the others. How did you come to be there?"

Mara shook her head, not wanting to get into long, drawn out explanations about an imaginary past – she was well aware of the fact that she had nothing worked out. If she started making things up, it could very will trip her up if she made any mistakes or contradictory statements which could be compared later. "It's a long story," she responded dryly. "Suffice it to say, I needed money and Jabba paid well."

"I suppose he did, but I wouldn't really know. I wasn't exactly getting paid."

Her attempt at humor fell a little flat, but Mara gave her a brief smile anyway. "Don't feel too bad – he never got around to paying me either."

Their attempts to lighten the mood did nothing to ease the air of tension which pervaded the room and Leia's face once again grew serious. Mara felt as though she was under interrogation – Organa's expression was almost predatory, her gaze fixed on Mara, a vornskr eying its prey.

"Well, your showing up here is very fortuitous – you could have easily gone down with the sail barge."

"I guess some of us just have the luck," Mara answered, her flippant tone intending to brush off the underlying innuendo of convenient happenstance.

She should have known it would not work with the princess.

"Luck, maybe," Leia continued, her tone becoming… not precisely accusatory, but definitely challenging. "But I don't remember seeing you with the other dancers when we were on the sail barge. I didn't even know you were there until I saw you standing behind Luke with your blaster pointed at him."

She was skirting far too close to the truth for Mara's comfort. "I shot the thug behind him, not the Jedi. Do you really think I could have missed him if I had really been trying to shoot him?"

Leia considered this for several moments, her face an unreadable mask, her mind still equally closed to Mara's questing senses. Knowing the whole operation relied on her convincing Leia of her sincerity, Mara willed her to belief – if she had to do something about the princess, killing or persuading her with the Force, she knew the chances of getting to Skywalker would all but disappear. Although she had trained extensively in combat, she knew his skill and training in the Force far exceeded her own – she needed the element of surprise.

At length Leia nodded. "I suppose that's true. And you do seem sincere, but I've learned through experience not to take anything at face value."

"A wise precaution," Mara murmured. "But I can assure you I'm here by chance and will be gone as soon as I can."

It was nothing but the literal truth.

"Fine," Leia responded, her posture and voice still laced with suspicion. "But that doesn't mean I won't be watching…"

You go ahead and watch, Mara sneered to herself. I could kill where you stand in a dozen different ways without even thinking about it.

To the princess she merely inclined her head, sensing words would gain her no more respect or trust than she was already given. The two women stared at each other for several more moments before Leia finally looked away.

"So, did you want to go first, or should I?"

Mara shrugged her shoulders. "You can, if you would like. You look far more uncomfortable in those clothes than I am."

Leia glanced down at the outfit and muttered something about her attire before inclining her head in thanks and entering the fresher.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Mara sank down on the edge of the small bed which stood in the corner of the room, completely drained from her standoff with Organa. Skywalker appeared to be generally trusting, but the princess was cut from a completely different cloth. It would take all her skill to deflect that mistrust until she was able to finish her mission.

It promised to be a long evening…


Luke stepped out of the sonic fresher, relieved at feeling clean once again. He had almost forgotten how dirty one could get on Tatooine, one of the many things he did not miss about the desert planet. The only thing he regretted was the lack of a real water shower.

Snorting slightly at himself, Luke considered the irony of the thought, fully aware that for the first eighteen years of his life he had never once used the precious water in such a wasteful manner. The first time he had used one on Yavin before the battle over the death star, he had thought it an extravagance, likely not to be repeated with any great frequency.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Luke moved aside, allowing Lando entrance to the fresher, and strode down the hallway toward the Falcon's common area, where Han waited, freshly cleaned, with a steaming pot of hot caf waiting. Luke gratefully poured himself a mug and sat down in front of the dejarik table where Han and Chewie were conversing quietly.

"Hey, kid," Han began in a halting fashion, "I just wanted to tell you – thanks for coming for me. Now I owe you one."

Luke immediately understood – their roles had generally been reversed, with Han the one who had shown up to bail Luke out of tight situations. His friend was not completely certain how to handle this new development.

"Don't think anything of it," Luke responded, his hand waving Han's words away. "You know I'd never leave you in Jabba's clutches."

"I think a lot of it," Han replied sharply. "You don't know what it was like," he continued, his gaze losing focus. "Being in carbonite is like nothing I can describe – you're not really asleep or awake, it's just a whole lot of nothing."

Luke watched as his friend shuddered at the memory. He knew Han would eventually need to talk about this, unburden himself to a friend – but he suspected the time was not now. The experience was too new, too fresh in his memory for true healing to take place yet. Luke had been through a few experiences himself he would like to confide to another, but he knew he was not ready – may never be ready.

"Han," he said softly, "We've been through a lot together and I think we've gone beyond owing each other… I was happy to help."

Han glanced back at Luke, mischief written all over his face. "That's just because I've pulled your butt out of the fire so many times more than you've returned the favor," he drawled. "Of course you'd want to consider it even!"

"I'll tell you what," Luke countered, returning Han's grin, "you go and get yourself in trouble a couple more times and I'll come save you. Then we can be even."

"It'd take more than a couple, Junior." Han laughed and slapped Luke on the back, the dark mood of the past few moments forgotten. The mood and feeling of camaraderie restored, they lapsed back into silence, each content with their own thoughts.

Chewie wuffed a comment, which Luke, still not completely comfortable with Shyriiwook, did not quite catch.

"That's right," Han said, setting his mug on the table and turning the full weight of his attention on the Jedi. "Chewie wants to know, what's with the redhead?"

"You were there," Luke responded with a shrug. "You know as much as I do."

"Yeah, well, I was a little preoccupied at the time. Come on; spill it – why have we picked up another pathetic life-form?"

Luke considered the absurdity of the statement – he suspected Arica was completely capable of taking care of herself and hardly pathetic. He decided, however, now was not the time to share exactly what had happened in the past day and the mysterious Arica with the rest of the group. Instead, he went for humor.

"Another?" he asked, avoiding the question for the moment.

"Yeah, well, I think Lando qualifies as pathetic, don't you?"

Luke broke into a wide grin at the outrageous comment – it was so much like the Han he knew so well.

"Come on, kid, where did she come from?"

"Well, you know me and damsels in distress." Luke focused his attention on the mug in his hand, hoping Han would catch the hint and drop the subject.

Han snorted. "Sorry to cool your engines here, kid, but that one's hardly a damsel and I doubt she was in distress. The way she was looking at you back there… She's more like a rancor and you're her next meal."

Luke laughed – the sound almost surprising himself – it had been many weeks since he had had occasion to laugh. "Don't worry, Han, I'll keep an eye on her. I don't sense any danger from her anyway."

"Maybe so," Han responded, rising to his feet, "but I don't know her and don't trust her. Let's go over to that hut of yours – I don't like her being there alone with Leia."

Knowing his friend was not to be dissuaded, Luke stood in response. "What about Lando?"

"Lando's a big boy, I'm sure he can find his way," Han returned. "Besides, I'm not certain I trust Lando either."


The entire group had gathered in the main room of the hut, Lando having joined sometime after the rest had left the Falcon. The companions spoke quietly among themselves, Lando and Han having shook hands and the grudging thanks and barbed comments which passed between them seemed to have warmed them to each other. They now spoke as long parted acquaintances, each getting to know the other again, but both uncertain as to the exact nature of their changed relationship. Luke suspected it would be some time before they felt completely comfortable with each other.

Luke's attention was only partially on the ongoing conversation in the room – he was focused on the fresher, where the last member of the party was still holed up nearly an hour after their arrival. Although Luke still could not get any impression of Arica's thoughts, he could feel the emotions slipping through her barriers – confusion, apprehension, mixed with a certain amount of anger seemed prevalent among them. He suspected she would make an appearance soon, but was not certain in his own mind whether he was anticipating or dreading that moment.

He was fascinated by her – from the way she had quested out to his Force signature, to her appearance on the sail barge, smoking blaster in hand as she gunned down the thug who had slipped in behind him. Maybe it was just the fact that he had never met another Force user, one who was close to his own age. He would have been willing to believe he was the last, even though he knew that in a galaxy with trillions of beings, he being the last Force user would be unlikely in the extreme.

The clearing of a throat nearby caught his attention and Luke glanced back at his friends, finding a wry look on Han's face. Realizing he had been staring toward the fresher for some time, Luke colored slightly. His companions' expressions ranged from amusement, on Han's face, to worry on Leia's.

Ultimately, the princess won out and Leia leaned slightly forward, her eyes fixed on Luke. "Luke, I don't trust her. She's hiding something."

"Aren't we all?" Luke asked rhetorically. "I really don't think we have anything to talk about."

Leia's face held nothing but exasperation at his words. "Luke, that's different and you know it. We don't know where she came from, or how she got into Jabba's palace – all I'm asking is for you to be careful."

"I know that, Leia," Luke responded, his tone sharp and final. "I will keep an eye on her, but I will not condemn someone based on nothing more than not knowing anything about them. Besides, once we find out where she's going, we can see her off – I doubt we'll see her again."

"Come on, Leia," Han chimed in, his tone conciliatory, "I'm sure the kid knows what he's doing. Besides, even if she is hostile, she would have to take us all on."

Leia looked unconvinced, her face was troubled and she appeared to be struggling to reconcile her emotions with his words. Knowing she was not likely to be convinced and any discussions of the Force or mysterious connections would have no effect on her opinion, Luke decided to try a different tack.

"Look, Leia," Luke began, grateful for Han's support, "I understand your concern, but for right now we appear to be stuck with her. What would you have me do – turn her out to fend for herself?"

He did not expect an answer to his question; to do so would be tantamount to a death sentence – a fact Leia fully understood. Although she considered his words and her expression softened, the worry did not disappear from her face.

"Leia, trust me – I will watch her while she is with us."

Not appearing mollified in the slightest, Leia nevertheless nodded her head in reluctant agreement.

"There is something else to consider…" Luke began quietly. "She's Force sensitive."

Several sets of eyes immediately turned to stare at Luke, incredulous expressions painted on surprised faces.

"Are you certain?" Leia breathed.

"Yes Leia – I can feel it."

Stunned silence greeted his declaration and at that moment the door to the fresher opened and the subject of their discussions exited the fresher to stand self-consciously in the entrance as she gazed at the assembled group.

This time, however, Luke was not about to allow an uncomfortable silence develop as before. He rose immediately and gestured for Arica to join the group. "Please join us," he said, backing up the gesture with an invitation.

She regarded him momentarily, her expression unreadable, before finally moving to a chair situated slightly away from the group and sinking down into it, her eyes never once leaving the others. There was something he could not quite place in her gaze – something which hinted at competence and confidence, action and a certain danger, yet also concealed insecurities and scars, never fully healed. He had never been so fascinated, so intrigued by another person – it both thrilled him with its newness and scared him with its suddenness and intensity.

"I suppose we should start with the introductions," Luke began, aware of the silence which was quickly threatening to engulf the room once again. "Everyone, this is Arica…"

"Just Arica," she interjected quickly.

Unfazed, Luke simply nodded his head. "Arica, this is Han, Leia, Chewie and…"

"Hello, I am Lando Calrissian, former Baron Administrator of Cloud City," Lando said, cutting Luke off. He rose to his feet and taking Arica's hand, bowed and kissed the back of it with a flourish.

Luke had certainly seen Lando turn on the charm before – in the time they had spent together searching for Han, they had had occasion to be found in many places Luke would have rather avoided. And the man did have a way of acting, a way of charming others and putting others at ease – he was naturally charismatic and likeable.

But Luke had also seen the man in action, seen him turn on the charm to members of the opposite sex. He had to admit he found the man's manner with women to be insincere and overly flirtatious – generally speaking somewhat clichéd and flattered without any real substance. Now, seeing him act this way with Arica set Luke's teeth on edge and caused a spike of… something go though him – something Luke preferred not to dwell on. He forced it down and willed himself to watch the encounter passively, curious as to what Arica's reaction would be.

Arica glanced up at Lando coolly, instantly pulling her hand from his grasp. "I suggest you get your hands off me if you don't want to lose them, Calrissian," she said, smiling sweetly up at Lando the whole time.

The look of shock which appeared on Lando's face was almost comical and Chewie's soft wuffing coupled with Han's amused chuckle caused Lando to flush. He pressed on gamely, however, sitting down near Arica and launching into an animated, and mostly one-sided, conversation.

Luke glanced over at Han, catching the rolled eyes and shrug of the other. It's going to be a long night, he thought, seating himself, watching the interaction between the dancer and the sweet-talking baron.


Mara started awake, her eyes raking the room for any hint of danger. Seeing nothing which would account for her starting so, she relaxed, realizing it must have been the dreams again shocking her into wakefulness.

It had been an interminable, restless night, plagued with nightmares featuring the Jedi and her master in equal measure. Even now, the memory of them was fading, drifting off into the recesses of her consciousness, leaving her with nothing more than images, impressions of the things dredged up from the corners of her mind, displayed before her eyes in the form of the dreams. Concentrate as she might, she could not recall the specifics – only the impression of the Emperor's triumphant cackle and sometimes an insane wailing she instinctively knew was his, the clash of lightsabers, red on green, the hard look of determination in Skywalker's blue eyes and one particularly vivid picture of Skywalker bathed in the electrical blue light of the Emperor's favorite disciplinary technique.

She shuddered. Having been the recipient of her master's wrath, it was not an experience she would wish on anyone, friend or foe.

Sighing, Mara glanced again at the empty room, knowing Skywalker slept on the other side of the wall. Even now, his presence was firmly fixed in her subconscious, anchored in a small niche of her mind, pulsating – a constant reminder of the connection which had sprung into being between them. She was beginning to wonder if there would be a backlash on her psyche when she killed him.

A soft snore brought her attention back to the occupants of the other room, specifically the other person she had not yet thought of – Calrissian. The mere thought of the idiotic man caused her mood to darken.

She had been right – it had been an excruciatingly long evening, although in reality it had only been an hour or so before they had decided to retire. Through it all, Calrissian had stayed by her, cajoling her into speaking when she would have preferred to remain silent, attempting to flatter her with his banal platitudes and insincere adulation, reaching out and touching her in what he clearly thought to be a flirtatious way, but which she considered to be merely overly forward and uncomfortable. He obviously considered himself to be a suave, slick ladies' man – Mara considered him to be a vain, shallow oaf. If he had been her target rather than Skywalker, he would already be dead…

Still, she had sensed something from Skywalker when Calrissian had introduced himself to her, a surge of something which almost felt like jealousy.

She snorted to herself. She must have been mistaken – it wasn't like she was anything to Skywalker, after all. And the thought of Skywalker actually having something to be jealous of, namely her actually being in a relationship with the slimy Calrissian, made her feel physically sick.

She began to feel a slight pressure against her consciousness as she considered the previous evening – a phenomenon she had come to associate with the Emperor's questing conscience. His attempt to contact her had probably been the reason for her awaking so abruptly, although she had not realized it at the time.

Mara felt a moment of panic – if she were to accept the Emperor's communication from this room, it was likely Skywalker would sense it and investigate. She clearly had to get out of the hut to protect against his observation.

She rose to her feet, determined to exit the small hut and receive her master's contact from a safer location. She moved stealthily to the doorway and passed through, glancing around surreptitiously at the forms of the two sleeping men – the others had all retired to Solo's ship for the night. Quickly she exited the building, peering back to ensure she had not disturbed the two occupants.

Outside, the twin suns had commenced their ascent into the blue of the Tatooine sky and the day, although still early morning, had already begun to climb into another of the planet's interminably hot days. Mara glanced around, ensuring none of the company on the ship was out for an early morning walk, and spying a small rock formation a distance away from the hut, made her way toward it, internally preparing for the exchange with her master.

The rock was hard and uncomfortable, but smooth with the eons of wind and sand polishing it, and she was certain she would have sand in her clothes in no time. But it was convenient and away from Skywalker. Mara sat down and relaxed, her mind emptying of all extraneous thoughts, her will focused on the task at hand. Reaching out, she latched on to the Emperor's questing presence and initiated contact.

What is thy bidding, my Master? she sent.

My Hand, the Emperor responded, causing her to wince imperceptibly. As far back as she could remember, her master had never once addressed her by name. Report. Has your mission been successful?

Not yet, Master, she prevaricated. Events did not play out as expected at Jabba's palace and I did not have a clear opportunity…

Not yet! her Master spat, cutting her off. You have failed?

Mara could almost see the flecks of gold lighting up in her Master's eyes as they did whenever he was angry. No Master, she sent back immediately. I have not failed; circumstances warranted a change in plans.

The silence spread between them interminably, as she waited for his response.

What is your current status? he suddenly queried, causing her to jump in surprise.

I am with Skywalker and his friends. I didn't have a clear opportunity to remove Skywalker during the confrontation in the palace. The Hutt foolishly thought he could destroy the Jedi by feeding him to a sarlacc which has made its burrow near the palace, ordering his sail barge out to feed the beast. Skywalker believes that he rescued me from the sail barge before it was destroyed – a belief which I have encouraged. They plan to stay here another day before leaving, during which time I plan to get Skywalker alone and fulfill the mission.

Skywalker has become resourceful – exactly as I have predicted. His potential is impressive… What has his impression been of you?

This definitely crossed over into an area with which Mara was uncomfortable – she barely understood the connection between her and the Jedi herself. Attempting to explain it to her master would be difficult and unwise. He seems to be fascinated by me, she dissembled, hoping the Emperor would not detect her evasive answer.

No doubt he has never met another Force sensitive his own age, the Emperor responded. This opens several interesting possibilities…

Mara suspected the Emperor was thinking out loud – so to speak – and that the last thought was not directed at her – she could almost feel the malicious glee in his voice as he considered the possible changes in his machinations. He sometimes mused upon the information she passed on to him, almost forgetting they were still joined in the link. She knew better than to take any notice of it though, for all she knew he could have made the remark, waiting to see what her response was.

I promise you, Master, Skywalker will be dead by the end of the day.

No, the Emperor's voice rang in her head. Since you have failed your task, consider your orders rescinded. I have new instructions for you.

Mara was shocked. But Master…

You dare to contradict me? the Emperor's voice, harsh and flat, echoed in her mind.

No Master, Mara quickly responded, instantly subservient and obedient.

The situation has changed, came the response. I do not want him dead – at least for the moment. I have a much more… interesting fate planned for him.

Mara was intrigued. Then what is your command, my Master?

Stay with Skywalker, become his friend, his confidante, his trusted companion. Ingratiate yourself into his circle, into his life, into his bed if you can. Do everything you can to get to know him better – observe him, learn from him and find out all you can about his background, his life, his training in the Force. But do not let him out of your sight – I expect you to accompany him when he is finally brought before me to meet his destiny.

Brought before you? Do you expect him to be captured?

The Emperor's amused cackle rang in her head. No, the fool will give himself up willingly – I have foreseen it.

By your command, my Master.

The Emperor was silent again, but she could feel the malevolent amusement as it rolled off him in waves. Yes it is, isn't it? he finally cackled in response. Just be certain to stay close to him – I will be most displeased if he should discover your real purpose.

He will not, my Master.

See that he does not! His voice was harsh and cruel. You have already failed me once and earned your punishment. I do not know that you would survive the punishment if you fail me again!

Abruptly the connection was cut, snapped by the Emperor, leaving Mara breathless and fearful, her mind whirling with emotions and questions best left unexplored. She shunted her whirling emotions to the corner of her mind and concentrated on her orders, several of which were uncharted territory for her. The Emperor had never rescinded an assassination order once it had been given – her instructions had always been to eliminate the target with extreme prejudice or die in the attempt.

Now she had been given a different task – one she was not certain she was capable of pulling off. How could she manage to keep Skywalker at bay for however long she was forced to endure his company?

And the Emperor had actually commanded her to seduce Skywalker if she got the chance… She instinctively shied away from the thought. It had always been assumed that she would use everything at her disposal to eliminate a target and her femininity and looks had been useful in more than one situation, helping her to move within striking range, enabling her to fulfill more than one mission.

But he had never commanded her to do such a thing – it had always been the one thing which was her own to give. She had dreamed that one day she would be able to give that gift to a man of her own choosing, someone who was more to her than simply another target. It had always made her extra diligent in her missions, something which if she ever had to do while on a mission, it would be because she had failed to complete it in another way. It would be her own fault. And now her master had taken even that away from her. In seducing Skywalker, she would be nothing more than a common whore – given to her master's enemy in pursuit of his goals, his plans, whatever they were.

She wiped furiously at her eyes, dashing away the tears which had accumulated there – she should have known better than to harbor such desires and romantic feelings. She was who she was – nothing would change that fact. She would perform this mission to the best of her capacity, something she had done on every other mission in the past. She had never allowed her feelings to interfere with her duty before and she was not about to start now.

Her duty… It was all she had ever really had. Even her relationship with her Master – if relationship it could be called – had never given her any personal satisfaction; the execution of his will had never affected her. It was all for him. Her Master demanded her competence and her obedience and had never shown her any affection nor accepted any from her, even when she had been very young.

She felt an instant of remorse and longing for something she had never had, but brutally clamped down on her emotions – they were unworthy. She had everything she could ever want or need in the service of the Empire; what more could she want?