A small, angular starship landed in the docking bay. A man descended the ramp. He looked to be in his late twenties, with a shaved head and chiseled features. He wore a sleeveless tunic which advertised his toned arms. A spindly droid followed him.

Leia stepped out from behind some crates and stood erect. "Good afternoon. You must be Starkiller."

"Princess Leia," Starkiller stopped and crossed his arms. "Skywalker tells me you know jack of lightsaber combat. And next to jack about using the Force deliberately. I'm here to change that."

"I could refuse your lessons."

He ignored this and raised a hand. The collar at her neck opened and floated to settle in an open tool box. "Have you ever received formal training?"

Leia, frustrated, scrunched her lips and shook her head.

"Close your eyes," The man said.

"Why?"

"Do it."

"Fine."

"OK. You can open them now."

Darth Vader stood in front of her. She was rooted to the spot. "Where did he come from?" Then she blinked. "Oh. The droid."

"Proxy has the ability to assume the shape and fighting style of thousands of warriors in history."

Pseudo-Vader gripped his lightsaber hilt. Leia side-stepped a few times until she was a few yards away. "Give me a weapon."

Starkiller smiled deviously. "You're demanding for an apprentice. If you want a weapon, take it from me." He nodded down to the two rods at his belt.

Pseudo-Vader ignited his blade and slashed at Leia. The tip came centimeters from her front. She ran a hand along the fabric where it almost made contact. Then her opponent shot forward to slam the blade down on her head. She cried out and side-rolled, barely dodging.

Leia hissed and lunged at her instructor, hand outstretched. He slid from her reach. She tried again, but a flash swooped from behind. The woman did a front roll this time. A long, scorched gash smoked on her back.

"Ouch," Starkiller said. "And to think his settings are on easy."

Leia grit her teeth, narrowed her eyes at Starkiller, and bolted after him. She lowered to the ground and spun as she sent repeated wheel-kicks at his shins. He jumped and skirted, but one foot hit. THUD! The princess used that one millisecond, grabbed the hilt, rose up and kneed him in the stomach.

Pseudo-Vader's breath drew closer. She switched on a green glowing rod and spun around, blocking an attack that had been aimed for her neck.

She tried a downward arc toward his legs, which he blocked with a mirrored move. She drew back and then stabbed at the control box on his chest. The enemy knocked the attack away. He began walking toward her on the offensive. She parried blow after blow, but her responses slowed as she was forced to step backward.

"Call on your rage," Starkiller said. "It's the only way to win this."

Leia tripped over a droid part on the floor. Pseudo-Vader suddenly zoomed forward and stabbed down at her chest. She jerked her body sideways to block with the base of her blade. Her body suit sizzled at the shoulder, but she was OK. The giant stepped on her leg to keep her in place and leaned his weight on their locked blades. Leia's face screwed up with effort. And then her eyes flared with something else.

A new-found strength drove Pseudo-Vader's weapon back at him. Soon she was on one knee and then standing in a crouch. She shoved him back a couple of steps and straightened. Then the shadow began its next flurry of swipes and stabs from all possible directions, faster than before. She dealt with them all and swiped at any opening she found. The green blade slashed deep into Pseudo-Vader's midsection. But she kept going until the form of Darth Vader disappeared and all that remained was Proxy's smoking and damaged body at her feet.

The woman turned off the lightsaber and dropped it. Sweat drenched her flushed face.

And then Starkiller was upon Leia. He took her by the shoulder and slammed her front into the nearest wall. She kicked him with her heel. He applied more pressure and then with his other hand traced the tips of his index and middle finger down the wound. His eyes were furious, hers were terrified. But then her body slackened.

She moaned. "Pain's gone." The gash was healed.

He lowered his arms. "Hatred has healing properties. The emotion gives us reason to live."

The woman turned to him and wiped her eyes. "It's an emotion that's been difficult for me to feel in any capacity. Except for Skywalker. And Vader."

"And me?"

She lowered her gaze to her combat boots.

"You'd best learn to hate me. Your hatred helped you survive the duel, and you'll need to summon it many times in the future to continue surviving."

His cleared his throat and his tone afterward became less dramatic. "I'll be here once a week. Proxy can stay to keep you company and help sharpen your skills while I'm gone. That lightsaber," He pointed to the floor behind him. "Is mine. I expect you to keep track of it."

"Take me with you," Leia said, grabbing his wrist. "Wherever you're going."

Starkiller pulled away. "Someday. Prove yourself to me first."

"Prove myself to you. And how does that happen, precisely? Look, morale is important for a student. My morale would be much higher if you allowed me fresh air. Civilization. Action."

The man stared blankly at her for a few seconds. "I'm the teacher. I decide these things," He made for his ship, leaving her to stand alone next to Proxy.

"Master's gone so soon?" The droid sat up with great effort. "I had best initiate self-repair sequences."

That night Leia found herself in the swamp. The voice came from further away than before. "Into a trap of the mind, have you fallen. Climb, you must."

The moist ground sank at her feet until she was trapped in a dark pit. She felt along the wall until her hand met a vine. She began to climb. But her feet slipped. Her hands slid.

Leia opened her eyes to see her dark quarters. Soon she stared at herself in the mirror, clenching the sink and scowling. What has the light done for me? A question I was too scared to face before sleeping. I paid for it. I think Yoda of Dagobah may be out of luck if he wants me to escape and find him. But he could be my over-active imagination. Guilt personified. I have a feeling I'll never know for sure, because my new life is here. She slapped her forehead. Stop giving in, Leia. Your new life is that of a prisoner. Everything's against my will. I'm more motivated than this. I can plan some way out. Right?