The small woman stared daggers at her stormtrooper escort.
The slight man in black was a half span shorter than the
armored troops around her, and she focused her hatred
on him. "Darth Vengar. I should have known.
Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate--" Her voice
stopped like a comlink cut off in mid sentence.
"Is no longer your concern, Your Highness." He watched with mild
amusement
as she struggled for words that would not come. "You are
a leader of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor. Your voice will
return when
you decide to tell me what you have done with the stolen plans."
The puzzled innocence on her face reminded Luke of his own well-practiced smiles.
He turned to an aide, "Take her to my ship and make her comfortable.
The Emperor has business with her. Double guards." The
Princess' look
could melt transparasteel as the stormtroopers escorted her out.
A prickle in the Force alerted him, and he stepped into a deserted cabin.
He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, opening himself
to the contact. "What is thy bidding, my father?" he asked both
aloud
and through the Force.
//You will refrain from using your abilities on the Princess.//
"Yes, Father."
//Do you have the data tapes?//
"Not yet, Father. They are not on the ship, but
we are searching along the last trajectories of the jettisoned
escape pods."
//They must not fall into the wrong hands. Not those of the
Rebels, nor those of Kenobi. Also, the time has come for
you to put away your companion.//
"Father?"
//He has entertained you, but you agreed to put him aside for a woman
and sire an heir when the time was ripe. The Princess will do
nicely.
She is a Force-sensitive. Awaken her to this and guide her to
join us
here in the Darkness.//
"But, Father, how can we? There are only two Sith at once,
Master and Apprentice."
//Jedi lies. She is not a warrior.//
"As you command, my Father. She will join us or die."
//Do well, my son.// The contact severed, Luke stood and left
the
cabin.
"Destroy the ship. Inform her father and the Senate all aboard
were
killed."
"Yes, my Lord."
"And find those data tapes!" He strode back to the bridge of
his ship, pondering the evening to come.
Leia Organa was surprised to find herself in a luxurious cabin
rather than the brig. But a prison was a prison, regardless
of how well-appointed. It worried her that her jailor was treating
her
so well. The message light on the table terminal
flashed.
Curious, she retrieved the message. Lord Vengar's youthful face
smiled at her in an obvious attempt to be charming. "Your Highness.
It would be my pleasure for you to join me tonight for dinner.
Your
autovalet will provide you with any clothing or small items
you need. Please avail yourself of all the conviences.
You are
the guest of the Emperor."
Leia snorted her amusement. It would do her good to get cleaned
up.
She fed her dress, belt and boots into the autovalet, with instructions
to clean them. She stepped into the sonic shower, and let the
vibrations
remove the outer layer of dead cells from her body, and the layer of
grime from her hair.
She dressed and began to work on her hair. Two could play at the
charm game,
and Leia was willing to bet she had more experience than the young
Imperial. She was a politician and a diplomat, born in the royal
palace of Alderaan. This young man had burst onto the scene less
than a year ago, spomsored by both the Emperor and Lord Vader.
There
were rumors he was a relative of one of them. There were other,
darker rumors,
heard from a few senators in or near the Tzalna system. On second
thought,
she changed out of her simple white senatorial gown and programmed
the autovalet for something a bit more daring. Still pristine
white,
she lowered the neckline to just the top of her cleavage. Every
advantage in
a skirmish, which was what dinner was, regardless of the polite words
of the invite.
The skirt was narrower, and she slit it up to midthigh. The machinery
hummed
quietly to itself for a moment and then distributed the dress.
The guards knocked at her door, a pleasant surprise, and she
scowled at them. They took her to a small conference room which
had been converted for the dinner. She was the last to arrive.
The two men stood up as she entered, and the older lady in
the chromosilk nodded politely. One of her escort pulled out
a chair
for her, before he and the other stormtroopers were dismissed.
"So I'm not to be cuffed to the chair?" she asked, taking in the
reactions carefully. The other woman shot an accusing glance
at Darth Vengar. Nor did the senator miss the slight tightening
of
the older man's jaw. Lord Vengar, however, just laughed.
She decided she didn't want to hear that sound again.
"No, no, of course not. Aunt Beru, don't look at me like
that. You taught me better manners. Dear Princess, you're
our guest."
He stepped to her side to bow over her hand. His lips were
dry, cool and somehow repulsive yet electrifying on her skin.
"We're all family here tonight. Please, call me Luke. And
I shall call you Leia."
Mindful that she was attempting to outcharm him, she flashed him a dazzling
smile, and then turned it on the older man next to him as well.
He met her eyes briefly and then looked away.
"Of course. And I would say you've forgotten any manners
your lovely aunt tried to teach you, since you haven't
introduced me to our companions." She kept her tone light
enough to avoid making it a true accusation.
"My aunt, Beru Lars. My personal aide, Han Solo, who has
indeed forgotten his manners." The tall man came to her side
and bowed over her hand as Luke had. She didn't miss the
extra sharpness in Luke's voice, or the implicit threat in the
glare he shot his aide.
"I'm honored to meet you, Your Highness." His voice was low,
soft and rich, but the brown eyes that met hers held only
anxiety.
She smiled charmingly at her companions as they returned to their seats.
"So, Luke," she made a conscious effort to use his name, "what
prompted you to return my voice?"
"I must ask your pardon for my lapse of temper earlier,
sweet Leia. I was not at my best," he said smoothly.
"I allowed familiarity, my lord. You are over-familiar."
The chill of her smile matched his.
"Your pardon, Princess."
"Two apologies in the space of two minutes," Beru marvelled.
"Leia, child, can we keep you?" Even Han half-smiled at
that idea.
Leia smiled at the older woman. "I do fear I am expected
elsewhere. My father requires my presence next week for
the planting festivals. And of course, the Senate is back
in session shortly after that." She tried to make the unspoken
"And if I'm not there, the Empire will be blamed" clear.
"Ah." Luke's comment was neutral.
Dinner wore on, a tapestry of bland comments with spiced centers,
and thinly hidden threats. Luke was discovering that the beautiful
woman had both brain and spirit, and was enjoying himself with her
immensely. Beru enjoyed watching him work. He was so clever,
and
she was never sorry she had defied both Owen and Ben in the matter
of
his education. Han sat quietly, eating little. He felt
guilty for
even hoping that this princess might take his place. If she
would do it willingly, he'd be free again. That notion intoxicated
him more than the wine, but he dared not let it show. Leia worked
hard
to keep herself focused let she make a conversational misstep that
would give the match to this dark angel sitting across from her.
At length, Luke rose and offered his hand to the princess.
"May we escort you back to your quarters, my dear?"
His aide pulled the chair out from the table, and she stood,
leaning just lightly on the Sith.
"You may."
"Good night, dear aunt," he bent to kiss her cheek before he left.
"A pleasure meeting you, Gentlelady Lars," Leia added. She noted
the older man merely sketched a small bow to her, as he followed them
out,
remaining 2 paces behind them at all times.
Luke said nothing during the walk, taking a different and seemingly
much longer
route than the stormtroopers had. She almost spoke when his thumb
brushed across
the knuckles of her hand that was tucked in his.
They made a handsome couple, Han thought walking behind them.
Luke
was on his very best court manners, and Leia wore hers as well.
A Prince and a Princess, and so very right walking together, her arm
laid
atop his, her hand held formally in his. The wild hope he had
squelched
so firmly during dinner was back. Most of him was thrilled.
He hoped Leia
would stay, of her own accord. Then, he remembered two nights
before,
and shuddered. There was no way the princess would want to endure
that.
But, maybe, she could be the one to banish this Sith mask forever,
and
bring his Luke to the fore.
The cold look in the blue eyes that met his over the black clad shoulder
told him he was a fool for such dreams.
At the door of the princess' quarters, Luke stopped, and lifted Leia's
hand to his lips again, his eyes never leaving hers. He lingered
over it, his breath teasing the small hairs of her wrist, the warmth
of his
lips searing the skin. Then he remembered his aide.
"Han, return to your quarters."
"Yes, my lord," he responded neutrally. "Good night, Your Highness."
He bowed to the Princess.
As he rounded the corner, Luke looked searchingly at the
young woman before him. "Sweet Leia," he began.
Having been down this road with any number of men, Leia knew
what was coming next. She stretched up, kissed his cheek
lightly and said "Thank you for a lovely dinner." in the most
insincere tone she could manage. All part of the moves in
the bigger game. She slipped through the door, and let it shut
in his face.
She didn't expect him to trip off in a cloud, but anything to
throw him off his guard would be good. Now for another shower.
Too much contact with Imperial officers left her feeling
as if she had been dipped in slime. She wondered about
that aide,
though. He wore no rank, and his demeanor was not that of a man
happy
in his position. It looked more like a man terrified of his superior.
Leia stood under the sonics. The two men played on her mind.
The slim,
fair sith lord, the evil an almost palpable electricity coming from
him,
and the tall, dark aide, who said nothing but saw everything with sad
hazel
eyes. She sensed nothing from him, good or evil, and wondered
if he really
was an officer.
"You were so quiet during dinner. What was on your mind?"
The question was laced
with a cold menace that informed Han he would would indeed be paying
heavily for
this morning.
"The Princess. What will you do with her?"
Luke sighed, time to tell what his father had ordered. "She's
to take
your place. Emperor's orders. After I produce an heir,
I can have you back."
"What if you don't want me back? What if she's more to your liking?"
Freedom was so
close Han could almost taste it.
The stern glance told him that was very unlikely. "You are mine.
What is
mine, I don't give up. Not for my father, not for anyone.
Besides, I am not to hurt her."
Han's blood ran cold at that statement and the implications. He'd
never
been subtle, but weeks of close association had given him insight.
He tried to shift
in his chair, but found himself pinned. Forcebonds again.
It would be a very
long night indeed. Luke's hands held most of his weight on the
older man's
wrists.
Steel eyes loomed over him, glaring into his soul, and dismissing it
with contempt.
"I wanted her tonight. She brushed my cheek and shut the door
in my face.
How loud can you scream, my Corellian whore? Can you buy her
safety?" The
invisible bonds that held him to the chair began to tighten.
"Whore? I wasn't the one with credits on the nightstand."
The bonds held him even tighter at this bit of defiance.
"I see you've found your tongue. Splendid. I'm afraid
your life is going to be very miserable until I've won the Princess.
And probably for a time after that. Do keep your spirit."
"There's half a starfleet," Han rasped through the hold that was
growing ever tighter, "that you could do this to. Why me?"
"Because you're nothing, and yet you think you're something. I
can't
spare officers. I can't risk the disloyalty that a reign of terror
breeds.
You are a safe target. And you are the last to make the connection
between Levant's and here." Luke let go and paced away.
Without warning, the bonds let go. Effective conditioning kept
Solo's hands on the arms of the chair, and off of his
abused throat and arms.
"Tell me about your princess," he managed, hoping to derail where the
evening was going.
"I know her from the Senate. She's a young hot-head from Alderaan,
all fired up for freedom and justice and all the things she says
the Empire isn't providing its citizens. Her father is influential
in the peace faction. Get my boots." Luke sat down.
Now this, this was the prelude to a much quieter sort of entertainment.
Han dropped to one knee and tugged the high, polished boots off.
As he set each foot back on the floor, he caressed the back of each
calf and knee in its turn.
"Was that gratitude, a distraction or is it possible you still want me after all this?"
"I want Luke back."
"I'm here."
"No, I think the man in front of me is still Lord Vengar. You
see,
Luke's a nice guy. He wouldn't be threatening me, or the pretty
girl."
"You see only what you want to, fool. There is no division."
When the
kick knocked him across the room, Han was glad he'd already gotten
the boots
off. He sprawled against the bed, shaking his head to clear it.
"Yes,
I think that will do nicely. Since you are so bent on interceding
for
the Princess, I suppose it's only fitting you should take her place
like this as well. Flat on your back."
That chimed with something he'd heard earlier. "So we're back
to the Corellian whore?"
"We all are. It's only a matter of price. You sold your
body to me for your
partner's safety. If I choose to alter the bargain,
all you can do is hope I don't alter it further. I wonder
what the princess' price is going to be."
*I only hope you never get the chance to find out.* Han stifled
the thought rapidly, and tried not to think about anything for
the rest of the night.