A Walk in the Woods

By Elektra

(elektrasfic (at) yahoo.co.uk)

 

Author’s note: This was written in response to Sticksy’s Challenge O’ Doom over at Echo Base. The restrictions are far to many to list here – you can find the full challenge here.

 

Also – apparently this is evil. :D

 

*****

 

The butt of the sniper rifle was snug against his shoulder as he adjusted his aim. His target stood beneath the branches of the tree where he hid, if he’d wanted he could have reached out and tugged the braid on the back of her head.

 

She had two men with her, both armed, while she carried a small blaster slackly against her thigh. She waited underneath his perch as one escort erased their tracks while the other waded out into the stream.

 

He suppressed a cough, his throat still raw from the noxious fumes of the crash. He’d wasted precious minutes searching through the smouldering wreckage for her body before picking up the trail that led into the woods. A quick glance at the topographic scan and he’d headed straight for the ford, knowing it was his best chance to cut them off. It looked like his gamble had paid off this time.

 

Clean-up guy returned to her side and signalled to the soldier in the stream. He decided that he’d waited long enough.

 

One quick squeeze of the trigger and the man in the stream fell. Another and the neck of soldier below him exploded in a cloud of red.

 

To give the girl credit she didn’t waste time screaming or staring, she took off at a blind run. Tossing the rifle aside he jumped after her, catching her around the waist as he dropped, dragging her with him. Her booted feet kicked at him while she twisted, trying to bring her blaster up to bear on him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and slammed his hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her face into the dirt.

 

Keeping his weight on her shoulders he levered himself so he was kneeling over her. He plucked the gun out of her hand and pressed the muzzle against the base of her skull.

 

“Hands behind your back Princess,” he rasped.

 

She didn’t move. He pressed the blaster harder against her skin.

“I said, hands behind your back.”

 

“Shoot me.” Her voice was deeper than he would have expected and laced with steely determination. He also noted with grim pleasure that her throat was almost as ravaged as his, her defiant statement coming out as a mere whisper.

 

“Not going to happen sister.”

 

“You killed them. Why not me?”

 

“Nobody wants them alive.” He felt her stiffen under his grip.

 

“Is that all there is to it?” He figured he didn’t need to dignify her stupid question with an answer.

 

“Princess if you do not put your hands behind your back by the count of five I will shoot off your fingers one by one. I need you breathing, not in pristine condition.” He imagined she was weighing up her chances, giving in now and being in a condition to escape later versus being stubborn and hoping he killed her.

 

Slowly her arms moved so that her wrists crossed at the small of her back.

 

“Good girl.” The binders snapped on quickly and he stood, pulling her up with him. She was shorter than he’d expected and the mud smearing her face made her look much less regal than the photo in the file he’d been given. He saw her recoil as she saw the body of the man in the stream, propped at an odd angle by the rocks on which he’d landed. She turned to look at the soldier under the tree, a shaft of sunlight illuminating the Rebel insignia on his chest. The deep breath she took to calm herself turned into a series of wracking coughs, almost causing her to bend double.

 

He waited until she’d finished before gripping her upper arm and pushing her ahead of him along the trail.

 

“Step lively Your Highness, we’ve got a day’s walking ahead of us.”

 

**

 

She estimated that it was at least four hours later when he pulled her to a stop in a clearing. The trail had been surprisingly clear and aside from a few furry creatures that her captor had summarily shot there was not a sign of life in this forest.

 

The bruises he’d left on her arm ached as he pulled her towards a tree and instinctively she resisted him. She heard him sigh just before he yanked on her arm, pulling her too him. She felt him undo the binders on her left wrist before pulling her arms over her head and turning her to face him. He held her wrists together with one hand, the other hand holding the blaster that was now digging into her ribs.

 

He grinned down at her.

 

“I figured you were the type of girl who’d kick me in the crotch first chance she got.” She simply glared daggers back at him. It looked like her chances of escape due to mistakes on his part were diminishing rapidly.

 

Still holding her arms taut above her he walked her backwards into the tree. As the wood hit her back she felt panic bubble up inside her. Death and torture she could deal with, but please goddess not that.

 

It took a moment for her to register that he’d refastened the binders over the branch above her.

 

“No offence sweetheart, but you’re really not my type.” This time she did kick out at him, but he neatly sidestepped, that infuriating grin reappearing on his face. He turned to walk into the undergrowth.

 

“So you’re just going to leave me here?” She wasn’t sure why she asked. It wasn’t like anything worse could happen to her chained to a tree for the rest of what promised to be a fairly short life than at the camp she knew they were headed to.

 

The grin grew wider and she noticed how it distorted a scar that ran down the side of his face and across his chin.

 

“Unless you have a burning desire to watch me take a leak then that was the general plan.”

 

She felt the blush steal across her cheeks and she averted her eyes from his mocking gaze. She heard him move closer to her again.

 

“You’re right, for safety I guess I should stay right here.” She shut her eyes at the sound of liquid hitting the ground to her right. After what seemed like an age later she heard his pants being refastened, then a breath on her ear.

 

“You can look now.” She refused to do him the honour of responding to his jibe, drawing instead on all her royal upbringing. She met his eyes, cool brown against amused hazel and merely raised an eyebrow in distaste.

 

He didn’t give an inch.

 

“You need to go Your Holiness?”

 

**

 

Somewhere along the way afternoon had turned into twilight. Leia stumbled as she made for the log that was designated as their dinner spot, only her jailer’s hand on the wrist that was bound to him keeping her upright. Her body ached from the crash and her capture, not to mention the pain of constantly having her arm yanked this way and that.

 

Gratefully she sat on the damp wood and took the ration bar that was waved in front of her face. She sniffed it suspiciously, wondering if it contained anything that might make her more amenable from an Imperial perspective.

 

“It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re fussed about.” He demonstrated his point by taking it off her and biting off the end.

 

“Why are you doing this?” Even to herself she sounded slightly pitiful. Ah well, if he didn’t like ballsy he might respond better to weak little girl.

 

“Because it’s my job.”

 

“Marching people to internment camps is your job?”

 

“Fixing problems is my job.” He waved the ration bar in her direction. “And you, Princess, are a very big problem.”

 

“There are thousands of people just like me. We—“

 

“Save me the Rebel propaganda doll. You’re important to those people, therefore you are important to the Emperor and therefore you are too important to let escape in a pre-arranged shuttle crash before you have a little chat with the people in the camp.”

 

“What do you get out of it?”

 

“Money, mostly.”

 

“You’re despicable. You don’t deserve to live.”

 

“Really?” He stood up and turned to face her, his face hard. Reaching into the holster on his thigh he held out his gun to her. “If I’m such an insult to humanity then you’d better put me out of your misery.”

 

This was too easy.

 

“You want me to shoot you?”

 

“Well, we could always try it and see what happens. C’mon Princess, you must be tired of that moral high ground by now. Admit it, you want to shoot me in cold blood, hack off my hand with the vibroblade I’ve got in my boot and hightail it back to wherever your rendezvous point was. Thing is, I don’t think a sweet little kid like you can take the shot.”

 

There was nothing amused about the look in his eyes as he leaned in, waving the gun in front of her.

 

She grabbed the blaster from his hand, pointed it squarely between his mocking eyes and pulled the trigger.

 

**

 

He had to admit, the look on her face as the weapon merely clicked was priceless. He grabbed her wrist to stop her braining him with it, then pulled the useless gun from her hand and threw it into the bushes.

 

“Congratulations Princess, you’re one step closer to being scum like me.”

 

“You knew it wouldn’t work.” Her tone was almost accusatory.

 

“Power pack went dead on the last critter.”

 

“Then why?” Her voice was breaking, even through the whisper that was all she could manage.

 

“Stopped you trying to manipulate me. And for fun.”

 

“You’re a heartless, soulless bastard.” He could hear the dull edge creeping into her tone that meant he was winning. He tossed a mirthless grin in her direction.

 

“That’s why you love me.”

 

**

 

From the crest of the hill the moonlight made the buildings glow silver. She could make out the squat blocks of the detention centres, punctuated by spindly guard towers. It couldn’t be more than an hour away. She felt the hope that had been born when her shuttle crashed fade into a heavy ball in the pit of her stomach.

 

She could feel desperation start to take hold as she surveyed the area around the path. If she couldn’t escape then the least she could do was end her life while it was still under her own control. There was no chance of getting the knife from her captor, or the backup weapon he’d produced when she’d asked him what was stopping her from simply running away. After that he’d let her walk with her hands fastened in front of her.

 

She heard him come up behind her as she was assessing the chances of forming a vine into a workable noose.

 

He held her arm in the exact spot he had every time as he raised his hand to his mouth.

 

Camp Delta this is Solo, do you copy?” Static hissed as she processed his name and the fact that he had a comlink.

 

“Copy Solo. What’s your status?”

“I’m on the east hill. I have her.”

 

“Roger that. Transport will be with you in five.” Leia felt her blood freeze. Five. She’d been counting on an hour. Now that transport was coming he wouldn’t leave her side.

 

They’d take her alive.

 

The world started to spin and she sank to the ground. She couldn’t seem to breathe properly although her chest was heaving so much that it was painful. She curled up and buried her face in her knees, only realising when her pants were wet that she was crying.

 

“Get up.” There was no sympathy in his voice. No indication that he knew or cared what he was condemning her too. She raised her tear-stained face to look at him.

 

“They’ll torture me.”

 

He reached down and pulled her up, pushing her before him on this last stretch.

 

“I know that.”

 

 

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