A much subdued Princess allowed the Sith to guide her back
to her quarters. He helped her into a chair and turned to go.
"Luke, wait."
He turned back to look at her. She was as white as her dress,
with eyes like dark bruises in her face.
"Don't leave me. Please?"
He silently sat across from her, waves of sympathy all but
rolling from him. He reached across the small table, and
she clutched his hands, making them her life-line. The brief
talk in the lift filtered through her mind, and she wrote the
hard words off to jealousy.
She stared at the young man across from her. Aside from his
brusqueness at her capture, he had been nothing but kind to
her. If he was truly evil, she would have expected him to
behave more like his father or the governor. That brought a
catch to her breathing, but she pushed it down.
He stood and drew her up to him. "My dear princess, I am so
very sorry. Had I known what they were planning, I would
have left you here, and faced their anger by myself." She went
willingly into his arms, taking comfort from their strength.
He held her for the exact time he calculated to soften her.
"I must go. My father demands my presence. Will you join
me tonight for dinner?"
She looked up. "You, or you and your father?"
"Just me. I can even send Han away for the evening, if you
feel safe without a chaperone."
"Yes, I will join you." Her lips were in the perfect
position for a kiss, and he gave her the merest brush of
one, at the same time deepening the healing bond into something
more erotic, more controlling.
"My very dear, I can take away the pain of the memories if you
request it. You will remember, but it will be an old grief,
not the raw ache it is now."
"What?"
"I can feel it, on the healing bond. You hurt, and so do I.
Let me take this from you tonight." This and many other
things, he thought, but did not say.
"I will consider it." Had she really said those words?
"Then farewell for now, sweet Leia." His lips never touched
the back of her hand, but she still felt their electricity.
She lay down on the large bed and thought of a home that no
longer existed, and a beloved father, now dead. The tears
came hot, scalding her cheeks, choking her as they welled
from her throat.
In the hall, Luke savored her anguish, and smiled unpleasantly.
This game was wearing thin, and he was ready for the resolution.
Taking her pain would be only the first step. Then there would
be her willpower, her body and ultimately her soul.
They would all be pleasant diversions. He hadn't had a woman in
over a year, and she would make a nice change.
He stopped in his quarters to find an unpleasant surprise.
Instead of quietly watching the holonet, or tinkering with
the autovalet and foodsynth, Han was waiting for him.
Luke found himself slammed against the wall, his feet
dangling four inches off the ground. The bigger man's fists
were balled in his still-damp tunic, and an angry, ugly look
glared back at him.
"I take it the demonstration was not to your liking?"
he said menacingly.
"Why?" The word rasped out, harsh and hateful.
"To break her, of course. If she had revealed
the Rebellion's location, we would have profited. If
she lied, I still profited by becoming her support. Or
are you jealous of the fact that she'll be in my bed tonight
while you sleep in the barrack room?"
That last impudence resulted in him being slammed into
the wall again. "If I killed you now, Vengar, I don't
think you'd be missed except by that demon father of yours.
He'd kill me, sure, but I'd be free of you!"
Tiring of the charade, Lord Vengar nudged the Force,
and sent the bigger man sprawling across the table.
He levitated to the floor, and stalked slowly over.
"I don't think you'll sleep in the barracks tonight.
You're a bit too spirited for that, my pet. And when a pet
takes to biting, it must be disciplined."
Han fought this time, no longer caring about his own fate.
Now that the Empire had a planet-killer, Kashyyk might
as well be rubble already. The planet had been a thorn in
the Empire's side for decades.
The damnable Force held him more securely the more he struggled.
Metal binders were almost a relief when they closed on his wrists.
He heard armored feet behind him. "To the detention block.
I'll send for him when he's calmed down. No food, constant light."
The stormtroopers marched him through the station. Everywhere,
he heard
whispers and saw heads turn. Apparently, personal aides were
not
incarcerated with common prisoners.
Luke meditated the entire time before dinner.