Title: The Lonely Goddess Author: Briannakin Timeframe: Sometime post all the EU novels. Characters: Winter Retrac Celchu Categorization: Legends Canon Genre: Introspection (/poetry?) Notes: I was working on something else but then this horribly sad thing came to me, AKA: woohoo! Return of the 3AM muse! I remember. I remember it all. The view of the blue grey mountains covered in crisp white snow, overlooking gleaming towers that radiated the pinks, oranges, and yellows of the Alderaanian sunset. The view from the palace veranda was always so beautiful. When I close my eyes, I can be there. But now it only exist, abet in perfect detail, in my mind. I remember every species of flowers that will never bloom again; the taste of artisan wine never again to touch virgin lips; the names of all the children my adopted mother always had time to sit and talk with; their laughs; and their faces. They haunt me. They will always haunt me. Even at my age now. Even after all the other orphans of Alderaan have died. Yes. Somehow, it is just me now. The woman I consider a sister is dead. My love is dead. I can not even bear to whisper his name. In the early days, while war still raged, I became the Targeter. I was the Targeter before the Destruction when I sought information. After, I sought lives. Those lives never atoned for the children, never was justice given. The lives only added to my ghosts. The Rebellion had as much innocent blood on their hands as the Empire. And mine are stained red. Eventually, after even I too have passed, the truth will come out and history will know all. My mission was to be unassuming and ruthless, targeting those who could cause… issues for the Rebellion, those who were not directly linked with the Empire: Banking Clans-beings, large company owners, and those that otherwise had power that had benefited from the old regime. I was never discovered. I was heartless. Mara Jade had nothing on what I have done. And I remember everything: the last moments of happiness I have been witness to, the smothered cries for help, and when those cries cease. I was never a hero of the Rebellion. Look inside of me and you will see hatred. That isn’t victorious. That isn’t something to celebrate. I was a monster. I am a monster. Luke Skywalker always said I was Force sensitive, perhaps even powerful enough to rival him. My memory is not one of beings, but of gods. But Luke always understood why I never wanted to be trained. Why I never should be trained. Because I didn’t have to be trained. Because I felt them. I felt my world turn to dust and ashes and oblivion! And I remember that feeling every time I breathe. My rage and hatred long ago turned to ice, and that is what I became. I could destroy worlds if I had the knowledge to do so. To rid myself of my pain and anger would rid myself of me. The orphans of Alderaan all coped. They were able to cope because they were able to forget. Even Leia could laugh and forgot that I did, once upon a time as well. But I must carry the burden because I am unable to forget. So I shall remember for them. To live with this pain for eternity. So I shall be their lonely goddess. But. I am oh so tired now. So I shall rest, and Alderaan along with me.