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 stadard 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 meekly
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 were almost 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, surprised at his own daring, 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*