This ironic chapter centered around grieving the death of a loved one is dedicated to our beloved Princess, Carrie Fisher. Leia may have never been one of my favorite characters, but you brought a heart and soul to life that no one else could. While you will be missed dearly, take comfort in knowing that nothing can hurt you anymore.

Carrie Fisher

October 21, 1956 – December 27, 2016

"Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force."

Operation Citadel

Chapter Eight

Brendan's Funeral

Brendan was given a state funeral. An Imperial funded, televised, they declared the day a national holiday state funeral.

Yeah, they were driving this propaganda to hell and back.

Planning a funeral is one of the hardest things you can ever do. Planning one with Imperial Officials constantly over your shoulders are even worse. Tensions run high and arguments ensue over what the deceased wanted versus what the survivors want versus what the Empire wants.

We were literally given the personal numbers for Tarkin, Vader, and the Emperor himself so that Father and I could plan the best funeral for Brendan possible. There were daily meetings where Father, I, Tarkin, Vader, the Emperor, and Ozzel met to plan said funeral. They were… interesting to say the least.

Father would constantly brag about how wonderful Brendan was. I would burst into tears at the slightest thing. Tarkin was strangely eloquent and determined to make Brendan some legendary martyr (this made a lot more sense when it was discovered Tarkin had ordered Brendan's death.) Vader clearly did not want to be there at all, but I did feel every now and then that he was looking on me with a sympathetic gaze behind his emotionless mask. The Emperor was as terrifying and creepy as you might imagine (though I will admit he really nailed that smooth-talking, silver-tongued, politician act.) As for Ozzel, he was extremely twitchy, terrified that someone would discover that he had orchestrated Brendan's death.

Yes, you may not have realised it, but in those meetings only Tarkin and Ozzel knew the truth about Brendan's death. The Emperor I have my suspicions about, but Vader (I hate to admit) was innocent of that crime. He passed the issue of Brendan's rebellion to Tarkin with the instructions to "deal with it" but certainly not ordering to execute Brendan. …Or at least that's the story Luke fed me, claiming that's what the ghost of Anakin Skywalker insists. I don't think Luke would lie to me about what his father said, but I do think his father might fabricate details from time to time to save what little face he has left.

And for the record, yes it does creep me out that Luke can speak to the ghost of Darth Vader – sorry, "Anakin Skywalker."

Anyway, those funeral meetings were hell, and I honestly wanted to be anywhere but in those bickering matches. I remember what the biggest argument was over; how to deal with Brendan's body.

When a person became an Imperial Stormtrooper, they had to sign a series of documents. It was your standard employment and military paperwork. Emergency contact, medical history, schooling transcript, banking information, license to own and operate a civilian firearm (Stormtroopers were never *technically* off-duty) and so forth.

But there was one document Brendan had to fill out that we never liked to acknowledge: The Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan. That was the paperwork that outlined exactly what Brendan wanted to happen were he to die on a tour of duty.

I was too young to know the specifics of most of it, and frankly, as his sister I really had no right to handling the business side of death when my adult father was still around.

But I remember discussing one point with Brendan: the method in which he wanted to be dealt with after death. Father wanted to bury Brendan (or at least the head and arm they had found) in a graveyard plot next to Dinah. But I knew that's not what Brendan wanted; I knew he wanted to be cremated.

When I told Father this, he dismissed my request, and Tarkin backed up the idea of burial with turning Brendan's gravesite into a memorial with a statue and everything. The flowers and music I was willing to compromise on, but not Brendan's cremation. It was only when I had a complete emotional breakdown that anyone bothered to listen to me.

As I sobbed uncontrollably at a conference table in front of the most powerful men in the Empire (plus Ozzel) I told them the conversation Brendan and I had. I told them how he said he wanted to be cremated because in his spirit he was a pilot through and through. It horrified him to imagine being tied down, forced to stay in a place he hated for all of eternity.

I think it struck a cord with Vader. After an awkward silence in which the men just stared at me rather than – you know – comforting the sixteen-year-old whose brother had just been murdered, Vader spoke up. He had Brendan's military file brought in and they looked through his paperwork. Sure enough, there was his request for cremation. Luckily, The Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan functioned as a legal will in cases where the deceased did not have one, so we were legally obligated to burn Brendan rather than bury him.

His urn is silver and tiny, about the size of one of those travel shampoo bottles. It was small because the only things they had to burn were his head and his arm. That later proved to be a very good for me as it was very portable. Now it sits on the mantle in our living room, surrounded by Holos of people we loved who have sadly passed away.

The urn was graciously presented to Father during the funeral for Father to keep with him no matter where he went. In the month that passed between Brendan's funeral and this next part of the story, Father alternated having the urn on our fireplace mantle when he was home on Coruscant, and sitting in his office when he was on the Death Star.

Now, wait a minute, you say. Wasn't Alaric on the Death Star when he died? Doesn't that mean the urn should have been on the Death Star when Luke blew it up? How can it possibly be sitting on your mantle?

Um… We'll get to that.

The funeral was very formal with dozens of speeches from Father, Ozzel, people who worked with Brendan, and even Tarkin at one point. Bail Organa gave a brief speech too, but I did not. It was too hard to find the words, and I had become very bitter over the circus my brother's funeral became.

I kid you not, HoloMags literally had articles of best-dressed lists of attendants of the funeral (Leia won most of them.) Bail and Leia very kindly purchased the dress I wore from an Alderiaan designer, and Father on this occasion held his tongue because the cut was modest (like I would wear a plunging neckline to my brother's funeral.) That dress sold out in twelve hours after I showcased it when arrived to my brother's funeral.

I'm sorry, but I still get extremely pissed off when I think about that farce. God, there were HoloNews shows giving a live play-by-play, there were unofficial sponsors who catered and provided flowers and transportation out of "the goodness of their hearts" and totally not to get positive exposure. There were Brendan Rhiaon fangirls with – I shit you not – posters saying We Love You, Brendan!

Sorry, just… give me a minute.

. . .

Okay, calm down, Felicity. You can do this.

…So to say I hated my brother's funeral is an understatement, but before we can move on, there's two points I have to touch on.

First is the fact that the Empire released all the footage and audio from Brendan's death for the sake of "transparency." That means, out there right now is public video of a bomb exploding my brother. And by God, did the HoloNews stations lap that up.

The Bombing of Faclov was a significant news story when we thought the Rebellion did it, but it became a defining historical moment when it was discovered that the Empire did it (and we'll get to how they discovered that in a moment.) That means that every freaking year, on the anniversary of Brendan's death, every HoloNews station does a piece on it. And what is their favorite thing to do?

They broadcast the footage of my brother's horrifying death. For years, every time I turned on the HoloNet on the day of my brother's death, I was assaulted by image after image of Brendan's body exploding. Of his head and arm flying off. Of the gore hurtling across the street. And for years, I couldn't do anything but avoid the HoloNet on that day.

After the war ended, I actually sued twenty-seven HoloNet stations for invasion of privacy, broadcasting obscene imagery, pain and suffering, and forcing upon me undue emotional duress. I won the lawsuit and it led to the establishment of The Rhiaon Law, which states that a HoloNet station may not broadcast imagery of a real-life death without the express written consent of the victim's survivors. Every year since then, some idiot usually forgets the law and broadcasts the footage. It doesn't bother me as much anymore as I only once have accidentally witnessed some idiot news station broadcasting it (that was not a good day.) As for how I find out if someone broadcasts it, I annually hire a team to monitor stations for it, and when they find one, I send my lawyer after the station and get a nice little settlement.

It's a… strange little source of income, but not dishonest or unethical. After all, the only reason I get that annual payout is that some idiot decides "hey, let's broadcast the graphic death of a soldier on public HoloNews."

What really does piss me off is when they pair it with the footage of my reaction to learning of Brendan's death (you bet your ass that's become touchstone footage for the anniversary of Faclov.) The money I get from suing for broadcasting Brendan goes into savings, but if you show my heartbroken scream of learning that my brother died in one of the most violent deaths humanly possible… Oh, Leia and I go shopping with the settlement money I got from you for unconsented broadcast of a minor.

And Leia is not a thrifty shopper.

But there is one element to this carelessness concerning my brother that… kind of scares me. An element that has entered the picture now that I've become a mother. I can see Brendan's death, and although I'm not fine with that, I've learned to handle it.

Let me tell you the story about how Luke learned about Brendan's death. We had been friends for a few months, and had stupidly decided to date other people rather than realise what was standing right in front of us. Although, I take the blame for that. Luke actually planned to ask me out, and when he started to try, that was the moment I happened to tell him offhand that I had been dating someone for the last two weeks (we had been friends about three months at that point.) At the time, I was dating the man who would be my final boyfriend (well, final before the one I married) a podracer named Drystan.

Anyway, we were hanging out at… God, I can't remember if it was Leia's place or Luke's… I think it was Luke, because Leia knew better than to be on a news channel that day. So we (Leia, Han, Luke, Ben, Lando, Alyla (who was on Coruscant helping Luke with some Rornian business, and yes that's when her flirtation with Lando started) Chewie, and myself) were watching Drystan's podrace on one of the major broadcast channels rather than the straight sports one. The race ended, Drystan won, and Lando and Alyla went to the store to restock our snacks (why were we surprised when those two hooked up?)

We had agreed to watch some other sports event or something (it was like five years ago, give me a break) but it wasn't going to be on for an hour. So we didn't change the channel and casually chatted and hung out with the HoloNews on in background. Then they started doing a piece on the Bombing of Faclov. I was uncomfortable but didn't say anything as they played the piece.

Then they showed the footage.

I went catatonic. I stood there in front of Luke and/or Leia's HoloVision set, staring at the footage. Tears glistened in my eyes, and I couldn't move a muscle.

I remember whimpering the name Leia, and she realised what was going on. The next thirty seconds were a mad scramble. Leia yelled at Luke to turn off the set and for Ben not to look. Luke and Han were very confused, but when they asked questions, Leia just yelled at them to do as she said.

I whimpered her name again, rooted to the spot, my stomach dropping as I waited for the inevitable moment where Brendan died. Leia raced over to me and pulled me into her arms. She stroked my hair and shushed me, begging me not to look as a babbled nonsensically words like "Brendan," "bomb," and "make it stop."

Luke and Han didn't figure out what was going on, but Chewie did. I think he might have heard the words Faclov and Rhiaon and put two and two together. Or maybe he recognized me from the media spotlight I had been under after the Bombing of Faclov. Whatever the reason, he tried to come to my rescue. He swatted at Luke with his massive paw, forcing Luke to stumble towards the HoloVision set. Chewie then roared at Han (though I'm not sure what he was saying) as he grabbed Ben and pulled the young cub (as Chewie called him) against him, forcing Ben to look away from the set. Ben struggled in Chewie's grasp, but Chewie wouldn't release him.

It took Luke seeing the tears in my eyes to make him spring into action, but by then it was too late. Luke switched off the screen a few seconds after the explosion. My desperate scream filled the room as I fell to my knees and cried in Leia's arms. It took several minutes for them to manage it, but Luke and Leia got me into the guest room where I cried in Leia's arms for nearly an hour. When I calmed down, I asked her for some time alone and she left the room. A while later, Luke came in to check on me and we talked for a little bit. He didn't push me into an explanation and respected my decision of whether or not I wanted to give one. I then told him the story that I am now telling you.

What I am afraid of is not that that could happen again, but that it will happen in front of my daughter. I don't want Rey to see me like that, and I never want her to see the image of her Uncle Brendan being blown into a million little pieces.

I'm sorry for the excessive detour, but I promise we're about to get back to our story. There's just one more thing we need to discuss about my brother's funeral, and specifically the Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan.

During a soldier's funeral, there is traditionally something called a "Presentation of Service." The family of the soldier is presented three items by the soldier's commanding officer. The first item, the Black Heart Medal of Honour (the medal presented to soldiers who die in combat) is presented collectively to the whole family. It's the other two items they present that caused a bit of controversy at Brendan's funeral. Sometimes it's hard to decide if a soldier's wife or child or parent or sibling should receive a certain item so they make the decision part of the Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan.

The two other items presented are the soldier's helmet, and the soldier's firearm.

The helmet is traditionally presented to the soldier's wife, mother, or children (typically female.) The helmet represents that the soldier fought and died for the sake of that person. It is a symbol of protection.

The blaster is traditionally presented to the soldier's eldest male child, or father. The blaster represents that the soldier is passing the duty to fight for a better future to the one they bequeath the weapon. It is a symbol of combat.

But here's the thing about Brendan… he never was one for tradition.

Alaric and Felicity stood before a large crowd and were presented with Brendan's Black Heart Medal of Honour in a velvet-lined, oak box with Brendan's name carved onto the lid.

"Thank you for Brendan's sacrifice," Ozzel bowed his head as Alaric took the box.

"It is an honour to give it for the good of the Empire," Alaric replied as he set aside the box and someone whisked it away to safety for the rest of the ceremony.

Felicity could barely withhold her frown for the cameras. She couldn't help but feel disgusted by the thought that her father was so casual and even proud about Brendan sacrificing his life.

Ozzel stepped away from the Rhiaons and Tarkin took his place. Tarkin made a small speech about his connection to the family and that's why he was honoured to do this next part. Then Brendan's effects were brought forward for presentation.

The helmet was shining white. Brendan's blood and brain matter has been meticulously scrubbed from the helmet. Felicity briefly wondered if it was even the same helmet Brendan had worn or if it had been replaced with a new one. She supposed it didn't matter; as long as she had some reminder of Brendan.

The blaster was a standard issue Imperial firearm. It was a blocky, silver NN-14 with a compact grip, enlarged power core, reinforced frame, a safety switch, armored body shell, and flash suppressing/stabilizing muzzle. Not a weapon of beauty but it got its job done.

Tarkin went into his speech of the symbol of each item and how it was an honour to receive a soldier's effects. But everyone was in for a surprise when Tarkin came to the end of his speech.

"When Brendan joined the military, he specified which person he would like each item to go to," Tarkin announced. "These are the decisions he made."

Tarkin looked to the uniformed Stormtrooper holding Brendan's helmet and nodded.

The Stormtrooper took one step and held out the helmet to Alaric.

As the crowd buzzed with whispers, Felicity's jaw dropped. She had fully anticipated the Stormtrooper holding the helmet out to her. But… Brendan wanted it to go to their father?

"What?" Alaric blurted out, equally confused. Like his daughter, he had expected the helmet to be presented to Felicity. That was the tradition; the helmet went to the female.

"Brendan said the following," Tarkin looked down at the datapad on his podium. "I wish for my helmet to be presented to my father, Alaric Rhiaon. It is for you that I fight, and I wish that you look upon my legacy with honour. Forgive me, Father, for losing my life, and I only hope that I was good enough for you."

The crowd didn't even bother to whisper as they conversed among each other. To present the helmet to one's father was a huge politic statement, and Brendan inadvertently did it in front of a Galaxy-wide audience.

Sputtering in confusion, Alaric accepted the helmet and shot Felicity a confused look. Felicity just gave him a sympathetic smile and shrugged. She had no idea either what game Brendan was playing.

"And the firearm," Tarkin said loudly, getting the ceremony back on track. "Brendan Rhiaon asked that his NN-14 blaster, which he used to fiercely defend us from the treachery of the Rebel Alliance… be presented to his sister, Felicity Rhiaon."

Silence.

There was nothing but silence.

It may seem silly to you that Brendan leaving me his blaster could cause such a scandal but you have to understand that it was about so much more than a blaster. It was a direct rebellion of tradition and a blatant challenge of the roles in our family. The Rhiaon family should have stood as follows:

Leader of the household: Alaric.

Defender of the household: Brendan.

Caretaker of the household: Felicity.

But with his actions, Brendan had declared dominance and changed the roles of our household. By giving me the blaster and Father the helmet, Brendan had pronounced our roles as the following:

Leader of the household: Brendan.

Defender of the household: Felicity.

Caretaker of the household: Alaric.

And that was not something to take lightly.

Felicity felt every eye on her as she timidly approached Tarkin. The silence of the gathered was thick and heavy as the young girl approached one of the most powerful men in his galaxy with confusion and fear. She kept her eyes to the ground as she walked forward, each step landing with a resounding thud and an endless echo.

When she came to a stop, it took her a few minutes to gather the courage to look up at him. Tarkin's eyes were cold and clinical as he stared at her in an unending silence. Felicity wanted nothing more than to just make a run for home where she would crawl under the covers of her bed and never come out.

Then, finally Tarkin spoke.

"Your brother had a simple message for you," Tarkin held out to blaster for Felicity to take. "He said, 'Take this. Use it to fight for a better future for yourself and our family. Do not let me die in vain, and above all promise me that you'll never give up. Open your eyes, Felicity. Realize who the enemy is, and never stop fighting for what's right.'"

There was something more to Tarkin's tone. I could never dismiss the veiled threat in his recitation. Brendan had kept his words vague enough for the Empire, but Tarkin knew the true meaning. He knew that Brendan was trying to get me to open my eyes and see that it was the Empire was the true enemy. Tarkin was forced to give me Brendan's message as to Presentation of Service was too public for him to hide it. So he was forced to give me a subtle hint that there was something darker behind these words and warn me not to follow up on them.

Ultimately the threat was unnecessary; I still didn't understand. I was still just a little too naïve, too optimism, too brainwashed by the Empire. I was so close to the moment where my life's purpose would shift… but it was still too soon.

Yet something did shift that day. As I took my brother's blaster – I blaster I keep at my side to this day – I felt something spark. That day, when the weight of Brendan's blaster fell into my hand and onto my shoulders, I became a fighter. Self-defense was something I had been trained in, but from that moment I knew I had to become a soldier, a warrior, a defender to the household. I knew I had to honour Brendan's legacy, and take up his fight for a better future.

But as I felt Tarkin's cold, threatening eyes on my face, for the first time in my life… I wasn't sure who the enemy was.