Never Talk to Strangers...

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Star Wars universe and I am making no money off this story.

Starting to get into tricky territory in these next few chapters as they start to twine with the movies. If I make a mistake, I apologize. I'm trying to stick as close as I can with the originals. My copies don't have any of the new footage they added into the last releases.

Chapter 12

“So someone finally found a crack in your armor, Fett, and it wasn’t me. A shame.”

“Vader...”

“And you came crawling to me to put things right. Tell me, bounty hunter, what can you offer me in return?”

“Xizor...”

“I shall handle the Black Prince on my own terms. Not yours.”

The smug tone in the Dark Lord’s voice threatened to crack Boba’s carefully constructed emotional shields, but long years of dealing with these games allowed him to hold strong. He felt the pressure that meant Vader was trying to needle into his head.

Boba brushed his fingertips across the lightsaber swinging from his belt. It was not a weapon he used, rather a trophy he carried when dealing with Vader. A mild reminder to the Dark Lord that Fett was not unfamiliar with his tricks. The pressure lightened.

The two had been dancing their deadly tango for nearly half an hour since Boba had first presented his case to Vader. The doors were locked, the security cameras disabled. He had one card left to play.

“Skywalker.”

“Go on.”

“Bring me the girl and I will bring you Skywalker.”

“You’re bluffing. Two months ago, you refused to speak that name.”

“Situations change.”

A long silence ensued, broken only by the wheezing of Vader’s respirator.

“Where is he?”

“How many years have we played this game, Vader. If I told you that, you wouldn’t need me.”

“Convince me.”

“Skywalker is still traveling with Solo, his Wookie, and the Alderaan princess. I have an active homing beacon on Solo’s ship, as of this moment. I can track the Falcon anywhere in the known galaxy.”

“Solo is worth a lot of money to the Hutt. If this is true, why haven’t you taken him yet?”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Jedi,” Fett sneered.

“Your terms?”

“I will pinpoint the exact location of Skywalker, and send you the coordinates so you can intercept them. You bring Aislynn to me at the rendezvous point, unharmed, and I keep Solo to deliver to the Hutts. End of transaction.”

“There are too many variables in your plan.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will go after her myself.”

“You plan to walk in and take her out from under the Black Prince’s nose, alone? This woman has turned you into a fool, Fett.”

“Perhaps, but no other fool will be able to deliver Skywalker to you.”

“True,” again the sound of rhythmic breathing filled the silence between them. “I accept your terms, bounty hunter. Draw up the contract, and send me the coordinates. I will arrange a...discussion...with the young Prince.”

The cameras came back up, and the doors slid open. Boba bowed to the Dark Lord, turned on his heel, and left, hoping that Solo had not had the luck to discover the tracker hidden in his ship.

“Bounty hunter scum,” fell on his ears.

Fett whirled around and faced a group of stormtroopers. He stared at the leader of the group through the t-visor. The man dropped his gaze and ordered his men down the corridor.

Boba continued to the docking bay, wondering how he could ever have found the Empire to be a reasonable prospect for employment. As soon as he was back in deep space, he locked onto the faint signal coming from the beacon and set the computer to record and copy the pattern of travel.
Exhausted from nearly a week of sleepless nights, he debated slugging some liquid speed and decided against it. He needed to be in top condition to take on Skywalker. The rumors were labeling the kid a Jedi, but Boba knew that was impossible. The boy was too young. No one still lived who could have trained him.

Boba had hunted rogue Jedi for Vader over the course of the past few years. He had found most of the rumors to be false, and the ones he had tracked down, well... most of them had been mad. Driven insane by the Dark Side of the Force. Some weapon. Reliability was far more important in a weapon than raw power, Boba thought, his gaze drifting to his Blastech. Then again, a combination of the two was even better.

He checked the displays one final time and decided on sleep as the best option, and moved to the bunk. He didn’t sleep much on hunts. He didn’t sleep well at all... unless Aislynn was with him. He cursed himself the moment he thought of her, because one image led to another. He needed to focus on the task at hand, not get caught up in memories, no matter how tempting those memories may be...

The girl was slowly driving him insane. She had been for years. When he was away from her, all he wanted to do was hold her. When he held her, he never wanted to let go of her. He had always prided himself on being in control of any situation. Since he had met her, his control had been slipping. Especially when she was involved.

Just the thought of her, he closed his eyes and imagined her the last time he had been alone with her, the two of them stretched out on that big bed, sunlight streaming in the window, illuminating every feature, the curve of her hips, the inviting shadow between her legs... The image slipped away to be replaced by another memory... moonlight streaming in the window of a farmhouse, on a homemade wooden bed, creaking loud enough to wake the whole sector ...

Eventually, he slipped into an uneasy sleep, punctured by dreams of her and broken images from his past.

~ ~ ~

Aislynn reached down to adjust one of the knobs on the console in front of her, cursing vehemently in Huttese as she played the recording back for the third time. She was concentrating so intensely on her task that she didn’t here the door slide open behind her.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the Prince asked, “It is far too beautiful a day to be trapped inside, Aislynn.”

“You have absolutely no concept of privacy do you?”

He simply smiled and feigned interest in her work. “What exactly are you trying to do?”

“Trying to get the treble to come down a hair, but every time I do, I pick up this weird crackle and it blows the whole effect,” she switched the console off and sat down on the couch, adjusting her skirt.

“Personally, I prefer your voice unaccompanied. Pure. Simple. You have a beautiful voice.”

“I have to have something to keep me occupied. I’ve been through all the disks you sent me last week and pulled off the tracks I want to work with. If you’ve got any more with the...dulcimer... I think it’s called, I really liked those.”

“I shall have to find some more for you,” he handed her a small box and seated himself beside her on the couch.

She accepted it graciously, and opened it. Inside was a silver necklace set with what looked like small sapphires and some larger, darker stones. “It’s beautiful.”

He took it from her and fastened it around her neck. “It matches your eyes.”

“You shouldn’t...”

He pressed a claw tipped finger against her lips. “This is an old argument and one you cannot win. Women should have pretty things. Since your bounty hunter does not seem to understand this, I shall simply have to do it for him.”

She laughed aloud.

“Did I say something amusing?”

“He used to bring me guns.”

“That is at once a most disturbing and appropriate image,” the Prince’s eyes darkened abruptly. “While we are on the subject of your hunter, when does he plan on gracing my court with his presence?”

“I don’t know. He never tells me his plans,” she shivered involuntarily as the Prince ran a hand down her arm.

“He tries my patience with his long absence,” she heard more than a hint of anger in his voice and it frightened her. She tried to stand, but Xizor grasped her shoulders and kept her where she was.

“He’s probably just caught up in a hunt. It happens all the time,” she said quickly, trying to assuage the Prince’s anger.

He grasped her wrist, more tightly than necessary, and turned her hand over, palm facing up. As he lightly traced the veins on her wrist, she felt blood rushing to her head.

“Please let go of me, Xizor,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Not this time, Aislynn,” he said softly. “Our intrepid hunter is not the only one to try my patience. He seems to need some incentive to return, and I am tired of waiting for you. I am not accustomed to denying my desires.”

She froze, tried to pull her wrist away. He caught her other wrist easily and rose to his feet, pulling her with him. She thought about struggling, but the desire to fight him was slipping away from her. Her senses were filled with the smell of him, and she couldn’t remember why she should fight.

He pulled her against him, running one hand through her hair. “Hush, now. You have nothing to fear. My skills as a lover are legendary. I will bring you pleasure you never imagined possible.”

Warring emotions struggled within her as he led her to the bed. His cool hands moved across her bare shoulders, moving lower to cup her breasts.

“No...”

He lowered his head to her left breast slowly circling the nipple with his tongue, teasing it to a stiff peak. “Your body betrays you, Aislynn. I know you desire me. Yield to me,” his voice hypnotized her.

“I hate you,” she told him, and was answered by the soft hissing laughter.

“A few hours will change your mind,” he answered, unconcerned, and worked her skirts up around her waist. As he did so, he caressed the inside of her thighs, moving upwards in slow, sensual circles.

She felt him shift his weight, tried to push him away, but her body refused to obey her. When his tongue touched her, her back arched, and a sob escaped her.

The door buzzer sounded and she heard him utter a most uncharacteristic curse. The door slid open, and he turned furiously on the guard who entered. “I will have your head...”

The guard dropped to one knee, head bowed, “Forgive me, Your Highness. I have no choice. We are under attack.”

“Attack? By whom?” He sprang from the bed, adjusting his robes as he headed for the door.

“Imperial soldiers, Highness.”

“Vader,” the Prince muttered. He paused by the door, and told her, “Stay exactly where you are, my dear. I’m not finished with you.” The door slid shut behind them.

Aislynn lay on the bed, trying to shake off the effects of the Falleen’s presence. She tried to get up, missed the edge of the bed and fell to the floor. It took three tries before she struggled to her feet and headed for the door. She stumbled out into the hallway and headed in the direction of the central audience hall.

She heard blaster fire and turned away from it, rounded a corner and ran straight into a white suited storm trooper. She lost her balance and fell to the floor, head still reeling. The soldier started to level his blaster at her, changed his mind, and asked her for her name.

Without waiting for her to answer, he spoke into his radio. Before he finished his message, shots flashed from the other end of the hallway and the trooper pitched forward, landing in front of her. Smoke rose slowly from two smoking holes in his chest. She wrinkled her nose at the smell.

She felt hands on her, pulling her roughly to her feet. “I should have expected you wouldn’t listen,” the Prince said smoothly. “No matter. Take her to my ship. I will conclude my business with Vader and meet you...”

A deep voice cut him off. “We will conclude our business now, Falleen. Give me the girl.”

Xizor laughed. “I would have thought you beyond such fleshly interests, Lord Vader. If concubines are what your require, there was no need to force your way into my palace. I would gladly provide the Emperor’s First with the finest the universe has to offer.”

The guard’s grip loosened slightly, Aislynn twisted in his grip and slammed her knee into his groin with all her strength. The man dropped to the carpet, holding himself and she bolted down the hallway, away from the Prince and the dark man.

She felt invisible tendrils wrap around her and froze. The Dark Man swept past Xizor and stalked over to her, reached down and forced her head up. Her eyes were still glazed over from the Falleen’s “attentions” earlier.

“I doubt Fett would appreciate you plying your tricks on his woman, Falleen.”

“Since when have you been willing to play errand boy for a bounty hunter, Vader?” Xizor mocked.

“Captain, place his Highness under arrest, and take him and the girl to my ship.”

As the trooper stepped towards the Prince, there was a flash of light, and a strange whirring sound and the man fell to the floor, cut cleanly in half. Vader produced a second glowing sword, and the two men stepped towards each other.

Aislynn had never seen a lightsaber before. She watched the two men square off in the narrow hallway, pressing back against the wall. Their battle was like a dance, beautiful and deadly. Sparks flew, pieces of the wall rained down. She moved away from the combatants, inching further down the hallway. Beyond the corridor, she heard shouting.

“You are out classed, Falleen. Surrender, and I will grant you a clean death,”

“You will grant me nothing, Vader,” the Prince panted. “I take from you the death ancient blood demands. You will not bring down further dishonor upon my family.”

The blades flashed again, meeting in a storm of sparks, and the Prince faltered. Aislynn squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears. Even so, she heard him cry out, and the sound was cut off suddenly. She heard a thump and something touched her foot.

The Prince’s head came to a rest against the wall, dead eyes wide and staring, mouth open in a silent scream. She turned away, stomach twisting. She sank to her knees, retching. Blood roared in her ears. She struggled not to black out.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Vader giving orders to his men. She felt someone touch her shoulder and jerked away from them. She tried to catch her breath and choked. Hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her roughly to her feet.

She tried to stop her body from shaking and found it impossible. She felt the men supporting her stiffen, and a shadow fell over them. She could hear him breathing. In the silence of the hallway, she found the rhythmic wheezing terrifying.

“So this is woman who brought the Fett to his knees. Strangely unimpressive,” his voice was incredibly deep, as if he spoke from within a cave. His words stirred the last spark of rebellious anger left in her, and she raised her head to look him in the face.

“You were expecting someone else? Sorry I don’t live up to your expectations, milord,” she snapped.

She felt the men holding her flinch. In that moment, her fear washed away, replaced by an emptiness she would not have imagined possible before that moment. The thought ocurred to her that he could kill her without a second thought. She realized she didn't care.

The Dark Man, Vader, regarded her steadily through his mask. She felt pressure in her temples, and deeper, inside her mind.

“Interesting,” Vader said, almost to himself. Then to the men, “Bring her.” He turned sharply and swept down the hallway, his long cloak trailing behind him.

The men holding her relaxed as soon as the dark man was out of sight. The one on her left asked, “Can you stand on your own?”

“I...think so,” she replied.

He carefully released her, and the other did the same. She went with them, having no other choice, as usual. All along the hallway, she could see bodies, streaks of blood. The smell of blaster-charred flesh threatened to turn her stomach again. She tried to breathe lightly and ignore the smell.

They boarded an imperial vessel of a type she was not familiar with. She hadn’t studied up on their technology, not having much interest in the Empire before this moment. One of the troopers remained with her. The others left for other duties.

“Follow me, milady,” he said formally.

She followed him through bare metal corridors to a hallway with several doors. He punched a code into a door panel and the door slid open. The trooper stepped out of the doorway and motioned for her to enter. She looked at him questioningly.

“Your quarters, milady,” he offered in explanation.

“Oh,” she said simply and stepped inside, expecting to find a prison cell or an interrogation chamber.

Instead, she found herself in a sparsely furnished room. The trooper came into the room behind her and closed the door behind him.

“If you need anything, use com channel 12. Only channel 12. The others are reserved for other purposes.”

She nodded.

“You will be confined to quarters until otherwise noted. I do apologize for the inconvenience, but those are my orders,” he looked her up and down slowly. “I’ll see if I can find you something less...”

“Scorched and bloody?” she offered.

“I was going to say revealing,” he said flatly.

She tried to laugh, but couldn’t.

“With your leave?” he asked, then bowed sharply and left without waiting for an answer. The door hissed open, slid shut, and she heard the lock engage.

The room had a small writing desk, a bed, and the door to the facilities. Bedraggled and exhausted, she sank down onto the bed, not even caring about mucking up the bedding. She lay back and stared at the ceiling. The air was cool on her exposed skin. It smelled sterile, a mixture of hospital disinfectant and metallic aftertaste - like blood.

Although a thousand questions raced through her mind, her exhaustion proved stronger and she fell into an uneasy sleep.