The wisps of smoke rising from her mother’s body had barely faded before Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin moved to torment her father next. Bail Organa--her hero--had been reduced to nothing more than silent sobs and groans. Tears fell from the same eyes that used to make her feel so safe, screams came from the voice that used to comfort her when she was scared. The man that used to stand so tall had been reduced to…this.

“The last of the Organa’s,” The Grand Moff reveled in her world’s destruction… her mother’s death… her father’s despair. “A truly lonely existence, isn’t it, Viceroy?” His steel blue eyes showed no sympathy, no remorse--only a pure satisfaction in tearing her family apart. The Moff turned his back on her father, and for a moment, she really believed that maybe her father would be spared. Maybe some part of her life would survive, but a dark realization came to her.

She couldn’t explain it, but she knew what was going to happen. She heard Tarkin tell his trooper to fire. She saw her father fall to the floor. She felt the loneliness of losing the last of her family. She felt the guilt for allowing herself to be captured. She felt the regret for not hiding the Death Star’s plans. But, above all else, she felt the hate for the Empire--for Tarkin, and Vader, and the Emperor--who brought this pain about. Of all the things she felt… only the hate filled the loneliness.

Only the hate made the pain go away.

And so she dug into that feeling… she clawed her way down as deep as she could go, to a place where pain turned to pleasure. She felt the joy of imagining her hands around Tarkin’s throat, tightening. Forcing that awful smile off his face as he realizes that he doesn’t have the breath to taunt her or her father or anyone else ever again. Feeling his neck seize and his fingers claw at her hands. Squeezing harder and harder as he chokes and rasps and suffers. Until he feels a fraction of the pain she felt. Until she felt a fraction of the joy he feels.

And even when Tarkin falls to the ground, powerless and broken, she won’t consider letting go of her grip. Only when Vader, and the Emperor, and every last Imperial is made to pay for their crimes will she ever let go of her hate. Only when her mother and father and all of Alderaan are avenged, will she ever let go of her pain.

And as the dark vision fades, and the image of the Grand Moff taking his last breath bleeds into reality, she knows that Tarkin’s death won’t be enough to fill the hole in her heart… but it helps.

----

Leia Organa woke with a start.

Her long brown hair had unfurled from its intricate buns, falling over her shoulders and hanging in her face. She brushed the strands away and sat up on the small bed. Leia could feel that her sheets were damp, and the drab gray clothing the Empire had provided her was even more wet from her cold sweat. Changing out of one gray shirt for the next, Leia let her heartbeat settle before trying to do anything else.

The same dream again. Organa had been suffering from frequent nightmares ever since the Empire captured her. They would always begin and end the same way, vividly, as if it all actually happened. But the sensation of strangling the Grand Moff, Leia looked at her hands. It can’t be real, I was nowhere near him…

Still, even awake, she could remember every hard breath, every scratch, every struggle the Moff made to free himself from her grasp--all to no avail. The hopeless death-rattle of his lungs and the resigned collapse of his body against the Death Star’s shiny white floors replayed themselves in Leia’s ears. The enjoyment she felt being able to choke Tarkin and make him pay for everything he did--

Leia didn’t like sleeping anymore.

But being awake was hardly any better. From what she could tell, she was trapped inside an imperial transport shuttle, and had been there for at least five days. A daily meal pack would arrive via the room’s transport tube each time she woke up. I guess no one wants to come visit the rebel princess personally, Leia thought. It was okay with her, she didn’t really want to see anyone--especially not an imperial, and definitely not--

“Father,” Leia whispered. She hadn’t seen what happened to the viceroy after her “vision”, but she had a feeling in the back of her mind that he was alright. Or at least, what was left of him. Seeing the woman and world he loved taken right before his eyes must have broken something in Bail Organa, and Leia couldn’t really blame him. She wanted nothing more than to give up, but her mother’s last words stayed with her.

Hope is never lost.

Leia agreed with her mother. She would find a way to prove those words true, to get back at those who had tried to destroy it. Even in death, Breha Organa was still the heart of their family, and Leia wouldn’t forgive herself if she forgot.

With a newfound rush of adrenaline, the princess of Alderaan resolved herself to find a way out of this situation and back to the Rebellion. There was still one man she could go to for help, and because the Empire went through her protocol droid, C-3PO, and astromech, R2-D2, she didn’t have to face intensive Imperial interrogation and divulge her knowledge of the last Jedi in the galaxy: Obi Wan Kenobi.

Kenobi had been a Jedi master in the Old Republic and fought during the Clone Wars, working alongside her father to bridge the peace between the Republic and Separatists before Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine claimed treason and branded the Jedi Order as traitors. Her father had helped Kenobi escape the Purge and relocate to the Outer Rim world of Tatooine. She had planned on asking the Jedi for help before her capture, but now she would just have to find a way to contact him within Imperial custody.

It was definitely a longshot, but it was all Leia had left to fall back on. Mon Mothma was an amazing leader, but she had a hard enough time corralling the skittish leaders of the Rebel Alliance together. After Alderaan, it would be a surprise if the leadership didn’t turn her over to spare their own worlds from a similar fate. The princess knew in her heart that the Jedi were the last hope to stop the Empire--to kill Vader and the Emperor.

The dark fire she felt in her dreams burned again. Imagining the deaths of Darth Vader and the Emperor… Is it wrong to want this? She asked herself. They deserve to die, but should it make me feel this way? She tried not to think about the dark cloaked galactic dictator or his evil henchman, but that became exponentially harder as the door to her room slid open.

Leia took a step back as Darth Vader entered the room, his large form taking up half of the small area. The door closed behind him, and the silence was filled by Vader’s punctuated breathing.

Organa was on edge, but--oddly enough--she didn’t feel any fear. Just anger.

“Are you here to torture me?” She spat, her eyes staring up at the fiend’s black mask. “I figured you would’ve sent one of your imps to do the job,” The question was probing an unsettling possibility.

Vader let Leia toil in the chance that might indeed be what’s happening. “Your life has just become of value to the Empire, princess.”

Leia was confused--it added to the edge she felt. “What do you mean?”

“I am taking you to have an audience with my master.”

Leia’s words caught in her throat as she imagined being in the presence of the Emperor. She had heard stories from her father about the man; he was shrouded in secrecy and markedly much crueler than how he used to be when he was just the Supreme Chancellor. He was said to practice an ancient religion similar to the Jedi, but what worried Leia the most was the fact that he controlled Vader like a kath hound on a leash.

“What does the Emperor want with me?” She managed to force out of her surprise.

“I informed my master of your murder of the Grand Moff,” Vader responded.

Leia let her eyes fall to her hands as the sensation of strangling Tarkin pulsed through her. I really killed him?

Darth Vader began to turn to leave the room, but Leia snapped out of her trance in time to ask the question racing through her mind.

“How?” She could hear how desperate her voice sounded, imagined how wild her eyes looked, but she didn't care. She needed an answer for what she was feeling.

Vader turned back to face her, letting out another heavy breath. “The Grand Moff was murdered through the dark side of the Force.”

The Force? Leia struggled to wrap her head around what he meant. Isn’t that what Father said the Jedi use to fight? How could I have killed Tarkin with it? I’m no Jedi…

“Be grateful for your gifts, princess,” The dark lord mewed, stepping out of the room. “They have spared your life for now.”

The door slid shut, and Leia could hear his heavy footsteps fall further away. She sat down on her bed, more confused than ever. If Tarkin was really dead, and I killed him, then…

The princess let her thoughts wonder as the muscles in her hands tensed and eased with every image of her nightmares.