Riding the Storm

Danira huddled in a corner of the large room she had been assigned as the Emperor’s Daughter. Her cheeks were stained with tears and she stilled sobbed softly.

After the 2-1B had announced her fit, they had grabbed her, half dragged her down a long hall and up a turbolift and then thrown her into this chamber. The lead trooper had stepped forward and said in his metallic sounding voice that this was to be her quarters and she was never to leave them without permission. Danira had said nothing and had just huddled in a fetal position on the floor until the troopers went away. Then the tears had started flowing. Her whole life was lost. There was no more mother or sister to take care of her. She was on her own. But she was a big girl, seven years old in fact. That thought had reassured her for awhile and then crumpled as she realized it wasn’t exactly true. At least Mother and Esther got away.

Suddenly, the door to her chambers slid open and a big, big man all in black armor stepped in. Danira cringed away from him. He was evil, oh, was he evil. An aura seemed to hang about him and cling to him hungrily like a pest. His breathing was filtered sounding and came in short, timed gasps which made him even more omnipresent. A deep, dark voice boomed out.

"Now child, you will come with me to see my master, the Emperor. He is your Master now also you know and you must treat him with utmost respect."

Danira only stared at him in wild fear. Animal instincts raised against this threat.

The man motioned to one of the stormtroopers that had been flanking him and the white, plasteel armored person stepped forward, saluting smartly.

"Bring the girl to the Emperor’s chambers. Force her if you must, but do not hurt her too much. The Emperor has something planned for this one." The dark man hissed and then walked away quickly, disappearing through the doorway, the second trooper flanking him closely.

The stormtrooper stood at attention until the dark man was gone and then grabbed one of Danira’s arms. When she started to resist, he tightened his grip harshly. She gave up, wisely choosing to save her strength for later when it would be needed.

Danira was herded out the door and rushed down the hall, taking four steps for every one of the tall trooper’s. They stopped in front of the turbolift and waited for the door to open. A few moments later, the door hissed open and the stormtrooper pulled the girl in behind him. He keyed in something on the controls and the turbolift dropped for a few seconds and then stopped, the door hissing open effortlessly. The stormtrooper led her down the almost identical hallway.

Danira was becoming out of breath trying to keep up with the man’s long stride.

"Could you slow down a bit please, sir?" she pleaded, a stitch starting to form in her side.

"The Emperor does not like to be kept waiting," he said, never slowing down or showing any evidence of trying.

Danira jogged on by his side until they reached a large door at the end of the hall. Dread flooded through Danira’s small frame. She didn’t want to go in there. There was something dark and ugly and dangerous. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. It was like that dark shadow that had hung around the big man in black only five times the strength.

The door slid open ponderously and stormtrooper dragged her inward though she fought him with all her might. But when she saw the man inside, the fight dropped out of her and memories slammed back into her mind like a bolt of lightning. That man in the dark robe, who had tried to hurt her mother and her sister, who had taken everything away from her, he was here. She tried to be angry but all she could feel was fear. Danira sank to the ground, slipping out of the trooper’s grasp, eyes wide with fear and never leaving the robed man sitting in the throne at the end of the room.

The man cackled, his laugh more an action of derision rather than a show of amusement. He looked up at the stormtrooper. "You may go," he said simply.

The trooper saluted, clicking his heels and marched out smartly.

Danira, by this time, had recovered somewhat and was standing up, still watching the robed man, remembering the conversation he had had with her mother. His children, he’d said. That meant he was her father. Fear made her vision swim. If he were her father what would she turn into? She shivered at the thought, tearing her gaze from the old man to look at the floor or the wall, anywhere but at him.

Palpatine chuckled sardonically. "Yes," he said, "Let the fear grow in your heart. Mold it into anger and use it to your advantage."

At first Danira began to grant his request and felt anger boiling up behind her eyes, black power gathering around her like an invisible fog. She thought about what her father had done to her, to her family. Memories of her former life raced behind her eyes; see what he had taken away from her? But one particular one stuck and played itself in her mind.

Danira and Esther were sitting at the kitchen table playing the ancient game of chess. Esther’s brow was furrowed in concentration and finally, she reached out and moved one of the smaller pieces forward. After slowly drawing her hand back, she bit her lip and looked up at Danira. Their mother was embroidering the collar of a shirt the old fashioned way, with a needle and thread, as she looked on. Esther continued to watch Danira and her face fell as she saw a small smile playing about Danira’s mouth. Danira reached across the board and moved one of her priests, drawing her hand back and folding her arms across her chest before looking up at Esther and smiling.

"Checkmate," she said simply.

"That’s not fair," Esther said.

At this time, Danira had been 5, and Esther 10, the age when EVERYTHING started being "unfair".

"That’s why you learn from your mistakes," Danira said wisely, doing her very best to sound very important and grown up. "Now see, if you had moved this pawn here and your king there, you might have had a fighting chance." She teased.

Esther fumed at her sister, anger boiling up in her eyes. "Why are you always so much better than me at everything. You’re better at school, WAY better at gymnastics, even at a stupid game of CHESS." By this time, she was screaming and tears were starting to creep down her cheeks. "The only thing I might have a chance of ever beating you at is running, and that’s probably only because I am five years older than you. IT’S NOT FAIR." She stomped her foot to emphasize each word.

The moment the screaming had started, Danira’s throat had squeezed shut and her head started pounding. She had gasped for air, her hand flying to her shirt collar. She’s gonna kill me, she thought, desperation causing her head to pound harder.

"Est-," she had tried to rasp out, " Est-." She couldn’t get enough air to say anything more. She barely even felt it when she hit the ground, just sat there struggling for breath and sane thought.

Suddenly, her throat reopened and air came pouring into her lungs. Her head still pounded with no sign of letting up, but she gulped air as if it were going to run out tomorrow. She tried to open her eyes but the dim light only fueled her headache and she snapped her eyes shut again.

Desperate but gentle hands picked her up and carried her somewhere and she heard her mother’s soft voice murmuring to her. Everything would be all right now; Mommy would fix everything. Her mother had spoken the last thing she heard before falling asleep.

"This is what happens when you use anger and fear as a weapon. It is called the Dark Side. Promise me that you will NEVER use that part of your abilities again, Esther!"

"I promise," Esther had sobbed and then Danira had fallen asleep.

That memory haunted Danira for a few minutes and she gazed thoughtfully at her Father in the throne at the front of the room. A few mornings after that incident, after undergoing a most unpleasant treatment for a concussion and shock, she had gone to Esther’s room and apologized for being so much better and she would try to do her worst from then on. Esther had looked at her blearily for a few moments and then had jumped out of bed and had caught Danira up in a desperate hug. "Oh shards, Danira, you’re alive," she’d said. "I thought I’d killed you, that day. I should be the one apologizing, you little twit." Tears had been streaming down her cheeks and at the same time, she had been laughing more happily than Danira had ever seen her laugh. From then on, Danira and Esther had been the best of friends, total opposites, and practically inseparable.

Danira again looked back up at the Emperor and smiled slightly. She crossed her arms across her chest and stared at him obstinately.

"No," she said.

The Emperor had leaned forward, rage blazing across his features. "You will suffer greatly if you choose not to cooperate."

Danira swallowed and continued to stare back at her father. I hope you know what you’re doing, Danira. "I’m NOT cooperating."

"Then," the Emperor said in an echo of what she had said at that near-fatal chess game. "You shall learn from your mistakes." An evil smile spread slowly across his features as Danira’s eyes widened in utter terror.

Palpatine lifted his hands and sparks of blue lightning glittered around them almost prettily before zapping out and slamming into Danira full-force. Danira screamed and crumpled to the ground, dark force-shocks ripping through her body and wracking it with pure, intense pain. And as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, leaving Danira lying unconscious on the ground, her clothes steaming slightly from the heat. Two medics ran in at the touch of a button on the Emperor’s chair.

"Heal the girl as quickly as possible and then bring her back to me," He instructed. "We still have much training to accomplish."

The medics saluted and disappeared, carrying the small girl.

Palpatine allowed himself a triumphant laugh. The girl would be a great asset to the Empire, a great asset. Darth Vader’s and Danira’s powers combined would make them undefeatable....

...Hyperspace

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