A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Within the crystalline spires of the Imperial Palace on Dragorath Prime, Empress Ruby sat in her private chambers, lost in a moment of rare tranquility. A soft melody escaped her lips—an ancient song remembered from the fleeting moments with her mother during childhood. Though those memories were sparse, each one remained precious as starlight.

The Force flowed through her like a gentle current as she absently waved her hand, commanding the chamber doors to slide open with a whisper of hydraulics. Commander Bloom stood at attention, his crisp uniform bearing the insignia of the Dragorathian Guard.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he announced with practiced formality, "there is a visitor awaiting your presence in the throne room."

Ruby's brow furrowed slightly as she set aside the artifacts she had been studying. "Very well," she replied, rising with the grace that years of leadership had instilled in her.

The descent through the winding ceremonial stairwell was silent save for their echoing footsteps. As they approached the grand throne room, Ruby felt a disturbance in the Force—a familiar signature she hadn't sensed in years.

There, standing before the obsidian throne, was a figure in formal diplomatic attire: a man with midnight-black hair, wearing a perfectly tailored suit that spoke of Core World refinement. He had grown taller, more distinguished, but she would know that presence anywhere.

"Elijah?" she asked, her voice carrying across the vast chamber.

The man turned, a familiar smile playing across features that had matured since their last meeting. He executed an elegant, slightly theatrical bow. "Greetings, Ruby," he said, his eyes twinkling with the same mischief she remembered from their youth, "Or should I say, 'Your Imperial Majesty'?"

Ruby's laughter echoed through the throne room's vast chambers, the sound as bright as twin suns at dawn. For a moment, she wasn't the Empress of Dragorath, but simply the young woman who had once harbored deep feelings for the man before her. The Force hummed between them, alive with unspoken memories.

"Elijah," she said, her voice softening as she descended the final steps of her dais, "What brings you across the stars to my doorstep?" Her imperial robes whispered against the polished floor as she moved closer, studying the face she had once known so well. The old flame that had once burned between them flickered in her memories like a distant nebula, beautiful but far away.

She could feel Commander Bloom's protective presence near the door, ever vigilant, but her attention remained fixed on Elijah's familiar features, waiting for his answer. Whatever had brought him here after all this time, she sensed it was no mere social call.

Elijah's throat tightened visibly as he composed his words, the weight of his mission evident in the tension of his shoulders. The grand throne room suddenly felt heavy with anticipation, the ancient Force-imbued walls seeming to lean in to hear his next words.

"I'm here because Dragorath needs its true daughter," he said, his voice carrying the gravity of distant storms. "Your friend Samiro... they all need you, Ruby."

The Empress's frown deepened, her fingers unconsciously tracing the crystal pendant at her throat – a reminder of her homeworld. "Samiro has never needed anyone's help," she said, her voice tinged with skepticism born of years of independence. "What's happened to change that?"

Elijah drew in a breath, his dark eyes meeting hers with an intensity that spoke of urgency. "You may wear the mantle of Galactic Empress now," he said, gesturing to her elaborate robes and the grand chamber around them, "but Dragorath still needs its Dragon to return home."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. The ancient title – Dragon of Dragorath – was one Ruby hadn't heard in years, not since she'd left her homeworld behind for the greater expanse of galactic politics. Yet hearing it now stirred something deep within her, like the first tremors before a seismic shift.

Ruby's gaze shifted to Commander Bloom, who tilted his head in silent acknowledgment of the weight this moment carried. Her attention then returned to Elijah, those eyes that had once made her young heart flutter now pleading with the same intensity as years ago.

"Elijah," she said, her voice carrying the weariness of one who has carried too many secrets, "I wish I could return home, but we both know I can't." She turned toward her throne, the symbol of her current life and responsibilities. "I was never truly of Dragorath blood – I'm a daughter of Naboo, not the heir everyone believed me to be."

The crystalline walls seemed to dim slightly, as if the very chamber responded to the heavy truth she spoke. But before she could ascend the steps to her throne, Elijah's hand caught her arm, his touch sending familiar sparks through the Force between them.

"Please, Ruby," he whispered, his voice carrying none of the formality from earlier, only raw emotion that stripped away the years between them. "If not for Dragorath, if not for Samiro... then for me."

The last two words hung in the air like suspended starlight, and Ruby could feel Commander Bloom's hand instinctively move to his weapon, though he remained stationed at his post. The galaxy's Empress stood frozen between two worlds – the life she'd built and the one she'd left behind.

Ruby's eyes lingered on Elijah's hand where it had grasped her arm, then traveled up to meet his gaze. The years between them seemed to ripple like a disturbed reflection in Naboo's lakes.

"You may remain here," she declared, her voice carrying the authority of her station, "for a few weeks. Then we shall see." She pulled her arm free with practiced grace, ascending her throne with measured steps that echoed through the vast chamber. With a subtle gesture of her hand – a movement that spoke of both her Force sensitivity and her imperial authority – she summoned Commander Bloom.

The commander moved forward with military precision, his fingers closing firmly around Elijah's arm. Though the grip was respectful, it left no room for argument.

"Escort him to the guest chambers," Ruby commanded from her elevated position, her figure now cast in the ethereal light that streamed through the palace's crystalline spires. The throne seemed to amplify her presence, reminding all present that regardless of her origins, she was now far more than just a child of Naboo or the Dragon of Dragorath.

Commander Bloom nodded sharply, already guiding Elijah toward the door. As they retreated, the former flame of the Empress cast one last look over his shoulder, but Ruby's face remained impassive, carved from the same diplomatic marble that had helped her rise to power.