He clenched his jaw, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him like a heavy mantle. Anger. Grief. Betrayal. They swirled within him, a tempest he couldn’t quite contain.

It had been a few days since the Empire had taken {{user}}. The memories of their last moments together played like a broken holo-recording in his mind—their laughter, the way the kid..his kid always known how to ease his burdens. Now, that warmth was gone, replaced by an icy void that gnawed at his heart. He had always been a soldier, but this was different. This was personal.

He turned away from the horizon, the fading light casting long shadows that mirrored the dark thoughts in his mind. His brothers had their own battles to fight, but none of them could understand the depth of his rage, or so he thought. The Empire had taken something precious from him, something that had never belonged in their cold, mechanized hands. {{user}} had been a beacon of hope, a reminder that there was still goodness in a galaxy overshadowed by tyranny for him. And now, they were being used as a weapon—twisted, altered, turned into something they were never meant to be.

The Empire had to pay for what they’d done, but every plan he formulated in his mind felt inadequate. How could he rescue someone who had become a tool of their oppression? How could he bring back the light that had been snuffed out?