Warning in part 1 *part 2* The arrest on Devak Six took Han and Chewbacca by surprise. For once, they were pretty much in the clear. A forged waiver, true, but they had been hauling only legal cargo for the last year. The fiasco at Levant's had left Han determined to keep his nose absolutely clean and attract no Imperial attention. The local garrison leader ran a hot sheet on them, and was surprised by their "Priority One: Capture" status. "Who'd you make a fool of?" he wanted to know. "We usually just blow small fry like you out of the sky. You've got the attention of someone high up." The prisoners looked at each other. This could not be good. A "Capture" order usually meant a slow death at the hands of the interrogators. They began studying the duraslabs of the lock-up for a way out. "Escape plans will do you no good. You won't be held here. Take them to the shuttle." They were quick-marched onto the shuttle by a dozen stun-gun armed guards. Once secured, both in binders, Chewbacca restrained in a monomesh net and a large cage as well, the shuttle lifted. "A Star Destroyer. I have a really bad feeling now, Chewie. Look, if you get a chance, run for it." *And default on a Life-debt? I think not. We face it together, young one.* "It's your fur." He fell silent and watched the bulk of the ship loom ever nearer in the viewport. Once aboard, the pair was separated, Chewbacca being taken to the holding cells while a heavily-guarded, electro-bound Han was escorted to the bridge. This was not the reception he had expected. The basic ship design hadn't changed in fifteen years, and his mind raced with hopeless scenarios: making a break for it and taking the commander hostage, overpowering a gunner and turning the great belly gun on the ship itself. But he was too much in the habit of living to throw it away. The commander kept his back turned, staring out the viewport, until Han itched to put a blasterbolt between the arrogant shoulders. He noticed, with the unoccupied portion of his mind, the commander's uniform wasn't standard Imperial drab, but solid black. If there hadn't been six troopers with blast rifles, he'd have tried jumping the guy. The commander was short and slight. He didn't look like much trouble. But there was the quiet voice of self-preservation telling Han that little guy or not, the commander was not to be underestimated. In fact, he began to notice a distinct aura of tension on the bridge. The stormtroopers shifted uneasily in their armor, being as unobtrusive as possible. The crew hunched over their work, with the grim concentration of men trying not to be noticed. There was no laxity, no quiet humor passed between the men at their stations. This was a man not to be trifled with. He turned. And the word was out of Han's mouth before he realized it was coming. "Luke?" "So pleased you remember me, Captain Solo." The smile was hard in a way that even the carefully-practiced ones at the brothel had not been. "Escort him to the briefing room. Make him comfortable. I will be there shortly." His wits could not decide whether to stay collected or run gibbering through corridors, so Han allowed himself to be escorted out. The sergeant removed his binders, and showed him the bevsynth and the 'fresher. Han made use of both, and when Luke came in, he was working on a second cup of kaf, the strongest he could get out of the machine. "You've had a quiet year," Luke began. "I, on the other hand, have had a most interesting one. Oh, yes, I have kept tabs on you. How else would I have known where you were when I decided I wanted you?" "Wanted me?" The words caught in his throat and came out in what could have been a squeak. "Oh yes. You see, although word may not have reached the Rim, my father is the new Emperor. Palpatine was old and senile. My father, Lord Vader, deposed him a month ago. He's fond of me. I could have anything in the galaxy I want. But I really don't want much: a family, a ship of my own, revenge." Han gulped loudly. "And you." "Why me? There's billions of men out there, better looking, more famous, whatever. Women too." "Ah, but none with the answers I want. And do tell the truth. I will know if you are lying. If you decide to be tiresome, I will deal with you." Although Luke was across the room, Han still felt a hand close around his throat, briefly. "On the other hand, I still have memories of a certain night when someone left an extra fifty just for me." The phantom hand had moved southward and lost its threatening attitude as it stroked some of the more sensitive spots it seemed the younger man remembered. "The money wasn't the issue. I want to know: did you come back as you said you would?" "Yes." Somethng told Han his characteristic flipness would be taken badly. This Imperial officer might look like the blond god he had hired, but there was almost nothing left of the boy. Even the changeable blue eyes had turned steely grey. The invisible touch caressed his groin. "Why?" "Because once I give my word, I don't go back on it. You know my partner's a Wookiee. They have strong feelings about 'contract labor.' He insisted I take his share of our last job as well. A fifteen year indenture ain't cheap." More strokes from the touch. "And that, my Corellian friend, is the only reason why his pelt is still attatched. The bounty on your partner is more impressive than any of the ones on you. " Luke paced a bit, his hands clapsed behind his back. "Why did you promise to come back?" This was not the voice of the officer, but sounded as young as his years. "I needed a good navigator." It came off too rehearsed, and the phantom hand started closing around his throat. "What are you doing to me?" "I am a Sith lord, like my father." The calm voice of the young man staring out the port as if he were completely unconcerned, chilled Han as much as the words and the legends they called up. "That is a Force-hold. I already explained it to you. The truth gets you pleasure. Lies earn only pain. Why did you promise to come back?" "I don't really know. I hate slavery. And you weren't suited to it. It was killing something inside you, being forced into that kind of life." The Force-hold knew this for the truth and released his throat and returned to pleasuring him. He refrained from adding what he thought of the sea change before him. Luke caught the thought anyway, even from across the room, and laughed, a humorless sound. "And being the Emperor's Right Hand has killed the rest of it?" He moved in close to the spacer. "You're very wrong. I have merely come out of my chrysalis, like a dark-wing flyer emerging from the worm I was. I have powers beyond your imagination, smuggler." An invisible neural net of pleasure overwhelmed Han, setting every inch of his skin crawling with sweet fire. He arched in the chair. "I have everything. I have my father, and my aunt. I have a ship of my own. I have taken Boot Sunseeker apart, extracting one muscle at a time. And Levant screamed for a month before he died. And, now, I have you. My ship is large enough that the amount of food, drink and fuel you consume will not be noticed." Mildly shamed at having his own words thrown back at him, Han managed, "So what? You're going to keep me as an exotic pet?" His self control was fracturing under the onslaught. The steel gaze assessed him for a second time. "What other use do I have for a petty criminal like you? You are mine, make no mistakes. Your co-pilot will be deported back to Kashyyk. I believe he has a family there?" The question didn't really need an answer. "But, should he ever try spacing again, I cannot intervene. Come." The command was irresistable, and the beatifically malevolent smile followed Han into the darkness behind his eyelids. When he recovered, Luke helped him out of the chair. "Follow. We need to clean you up and get you into clothing more properly befitting my personal aide." "Is that what they're calling it these day? As opposed to contract labor?" The half-smile was back. "Nicely riposted. I do hope you won't lose that spirit, Captain." The phantom hand ran along his face. Han reached out and grabbed both of the smaller man's wrists. "Look, no more of this remote control. You want to touch me, do it yourself. I don't know how you're doing this, and I don't want to. Just stop." The humorless, soulless laughter again. "I think you are forgetting who belongs to whom. If it is my pleasure, I will use it. The fear you generate makes it irresistable." This time the real hand stroked his face. "You're starting to hate me. That's good. Hate, anger and fear are strengths. Use them." "Do I have a choice?" "You always have choices." The smile was pure ice. "You follow me now, I keep you, and your partner goes home. Refuse me, and I let you go. Your ship is in the landing bay." "Simple as that?" "Of course, nothing says my gunners couldn't use some target practice. Or that your ship would not have an unfortunate accident upon entering hyperspace. There are always choices. But only one keeps you alive to fight another day." Han followed. The trip to Kashyyk took three days. Luke was generous about allowing time for the friends to say their farewells. The first time had been touch and go. When Han, escorted by stormtroopers, and straightjacketed in an imperial uniform, rank pips and sidearm conspicuously missing, had appeared, Chewbacca had snarled warningly. The captain of the detention cell had found it amusing, and was taking bets on the Corellian's survival as he cycled him through the airlocks and double cage. *They take no chances with me, little one. I am a dangerous criminal.* On a human the tone would have been self-mocking laughter. *What has happened? What is this?* he asked, brushing at the uniform, and ruffling his partner's newly cropped hair. "This," Han said tugging at the collar of the uniform, "is what pleases the Emperor's Right Hand. We're headed to Kashyyk. You're mostly pardoned, but you're grounded. The bounties on you are waived as long as you remain on planet. But if you lift, they change from 'Dead or alive' to simply 'dead.' That means you don't come after me!" Chewbacca batted the finger out of his face, gently. *And where will you be while I am safe at home?* "You remember about a year ago, Levant's and the navigator we were going to free? He's in charge." Chewbacca hooted his disbelief. "It gets better. He's the Emperor's son too." Han filled in most of the details of the last day, omitting the more personal ones. Chewbacca's nose and observations of his movements filled those in. "I'm stuck." He tugged at the collar and rubbed his missing blaster. "I hate this. The uniform feels like it's leaving slime on my skin." *Be careful, Han. You have struck a very bad bargain. I will not leave you among enemies.* "He'll get tired of me." Han's voice held more confidence than he felt. "When he does, I'll get the Falcon back and come get you. I'm sure I can get him to lift your planetary restriction." *As you wish. My life is still in your debt.* "And right now I'm telling you, hang on to it, we'll need it later." They talked longer, discussing the future and planning for the day Han would come back to his co-pilot. The new chrono at his belt sounded. "I'm outta time, pal. He wants me back. I'll come back if I can. If not, take care of yourself." Chewbacca was an emotional being, and not content to let things pass like that. He folded his partner into the firmest hug a human could stand. Han breathed in the spicy woody scent of his best friend, and hoped it wasn't the last time. He silently took back all the bad things he'd ever said about shedding, and the way wet Wookiees smell. He committed the big lug to a safe spot in his memory. Then the detention commander began cycling him back through the security measures. Han strode rapidly through the decks, nearly leaving his escort behind. The look on Luke's face as he entered the cabin told him he hadn't been fast enough. "We dine with my aunt in mere minutes and you arrive reeking of the animal you space with. Into the 'fresher, and no delay! You will pay if we are late." A very quick dash through the sonic shower, a clean uniform from the autovalet and he was ready to go. Luke nodded approvingly, and motioned him to follow. Aunt Beru was a charming manipulator, and took to Han at once, recognizing a kindred spirit. Dinner was very long. Han told Chewbacca about it during their afternoon visit. The wookiee looked more concerned with each moment. "And after we take you home, we are rendezvousing with the Emperor on some kind of new space station. I've got a very bad feeling about the whole thing." A day later, Han stood on the bridge, watching the shuttle plummet to the surface of the jungle planet. "Happy landing, old friend," he said softly. "Good," commented the low voice in his ear. "Now, you're all mine. No more giving you up for afternoons. And you won't be allowed on the bridge again." *end 2*