Whisper Your Weakness

This story LIVES! Yes, amazing, I know, but it's another chapter. Sorry it's taken me so long. RL is a bitch!

And I'm way behind in commenting on your far-too-kind Feedback!

DMS: You know I love ya, girl! Thanks for all your support of this story. And the T-shirt, too! :p

fdisk: *blush* Sorry to have made you so frustrated with the wait. Hope this chapter is worth it!

angel_mine: Well, now you know how Luke 'killed' Viktor's father! And Mara did apologize. Wedge forgave her. ;)

Jules: Wow, you've read it more than once? That astounds me! Glad you like it!

AgiVega: Luke's torture is not quite over yet, but we're nearing the rescue bit, I promise!

Cherry: Wow, such an enthusiastic reply! You really have me blushing! And don't worry, it may take me a while, but this story will NOT be abandoned, I can promise you that. I haven't quite decided yet who is going to kick Viktor's ass, but it will be kicked, I can assure you. ;)

Jade: Oops, I think you've been on the edge of your seat for a while now, sorry! Thanks for your kind comments!

Astrid: Thanks for the compliment and here's your update! A little late, but hey, better late than never, right?

Sithwitch13: Thank you! I'm a huge Luke/Mara fan, but I hate to see them written as 'holier-than-thou, untouchable Jedi'. Bah! I love Wedge, although I don't know that much about him (got to read those X-Wing novels sooner or later). I'm more undecided on the profic Corran, but I thought it important to include him in this story.

Lurkz: Wow, people are recommending this little ol' story? I'm flabbergasted! Glad you like it, though. Did you really think Luke was dead, cause I didn't think I fooled too many people with that ploy! Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer still applies. Unfortunately, I don't own Luke. Actually, that's probably fortunate for HIM. I can't imagine he'd be too happy with all this pain and angst! LOL

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Chapter Twenty-One


Luke had lost all sense of the passage of time. There were moments where he felt that he’d been trapped in this living hell forever. At other times, he woke from a restless, dream-filled sleep, murmuring Mara’s name and reaching out for her, expecting her to be there as she had what must have been only moments ago. It seemed only a heartbeat had passed since he’d had Mara in his arms, making love to her, joyously feeling his body join with hers. Frequently, after having that dream, he opened his eyes to see the dull walls of his cell, and was surprised and saddened when the truth of his circumstances washed over him anew.

It was at those moments that he hit his lowest points. Luke tried not to let Viktor know how affected he was by this imprisonment and isolation, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t very successful in hiding it, judging by the customary look of superiority on his tormentor’s face.

The utter silence that surrounded him when Viktor wasn’t in the cell playing ‘the game’ had begun to eat at him. Luke longed to hear the sound of a friendly voice, or the lilting tune of one of the songs Leia would sing to the children as she put them to bed. At first, he would softly sing the songs to himself, but his throat would inevitably start to ache as he contemplated never seeing his niece and nephews again, so he would hum the melodies. It soothed him just a little to close his eyes as he hummed the lullabies and, unconsciously, Luke would rock back and forth, twirling his finger in his hair as little Anakin used to do. Some small part of his mind recognized that he was losing his grip on reality, but he seemed helpless to stop the slow slide into madness.

Unable to see the outside world, his days and nights jumbled together and he never knew when Viktor would come. Sometimes, it seemed he visited his prisoner in what should be the middle of the night, waking Luke from what fitful little starts of sleep he was able to get. He had tried to judge how many days he had been here, and was unable to even hazard a guess. It seemed like years…

Luke sucked in a startled breath as a new fear occurred to him. Viktor intended to kill him and Luke knew that. He didn’t fear his own death, so much as he hated the responsibility for it being in Viktor’s hands. But what if Berdin decided to drag this torture out literally for years? Luke did not think he’d be able to withstand that. He would truly go insane, he knew it.

Thus far, his torture seemed to have avoided any permanent damage - although Viktor made sure that it hurt like hell - but Luke worried that he would someday decide to do something even more terrible than the beatings. What if he decides to blind me? Or cripple me? Take away my legs, or my hands…

He looked down at his bionic hand, remembering another torturous time that he’d been beaten and maimed. Luke had thought that nothing could ever surpass Bespin as the worst thing that had ever happened to him, but he knew now that he was wrong. Viktor Berdin was his worst nightmare multiplied ten times over.

The Jedi code seemed a distant memory as Luke admitted to himself that he hated Viktor Berdin, hated him with a passion that made his disdain for Emperor Palpatine seem like a child’s petty grudge. Unfortunately, he now knew more about Viktor than he ever wanted to, for with every visit, with every beating, Luke was forced to listen to the man reminisce about his father and the life that a naïve farmboy-turned-pilot had ‘stolen’ from him.

Viktor’s rhetoric would vary from innocent remembrances of a son’s time with his father, to vitriol-filled diatribes against the man he held responsible for the death of that innocence. It was at those times that the beatings became particularly vicious, and in those painful moments, Luke almost wished for death. The only thing that kept those pleas from pouring out of his mouth was that he did not want Viktor to have that satisfaction. The Skywalker stubbornness was legendary and Luke pulled it around himself now, using it as a cloak of defense against Viktor’s manipulations.

But it was becoming so very hard…

He still held out a tiny hope that Mara, Leia and Han were coming for him, but it was growing dimmer by the minute. Lately, his thoughts had grown even more morbid, as he wondered fearfully what Berdin would do with his body once he’d killed him. It was something that Luke realized he did not need to dwell on, but some perverse fear inside him almost had him obsessed with it. The thought that his family might never know what had really happened to him filled Luke with a sadness so profound that it brought tears to his eyes.

On the heels of that sadness would come the anger and the hatred for Viktor Berdin, and Luke thought that here was one being that he might enjoy killing if he ever got the chance. Vaguely, he remembered that feeling this way was wrong, but at the moment, wallowing in his pain and fear, he couldn’t exactly remember why.

Luke was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest on the cot that was his cell’s only piece of furniture, eyes closed, body swaying slightly as he hummed the lullaby Dance, Dance, Little Ewok. A soft smile crossed his face…that one was Jacen’s favorite. He fell silent and his eyes snapped open when he heard the door unbolt and Viktor stepped into the room. Luke turned his head away from him, not even wanting to have the man’s image in his mind.

Of course, Viktor would not allow Luke to ignore him for very long. The beginning of this torture session followed the same path as most of the others…a beating with Viktor’s fists first, and then various other instruments of pain. Sometimes he used the herding prod again - always careful not to lose control as he had that first time – and other times he brought out instruments that had to have been outlawed even by the Imperials. Luke’s skin had become a maze of welts, cuts, and bruises that would have made him the hands-down winner in his long ago contest with Mara.

No, don’t think of her now. Not now, you need to focus to make it through this! he told himself fiercely. One day at a time…that was the only way he’d survived as long as he had. Luke took no small amount of pride in the fact that he could see a tinge of Viktor’s frustration that he hadn’t broken his prisoner yet. Viktor didn’t know how very close he was to succeeding in that, but Luke was determined to beat the bastard at his own game.

Right now, however, his head was reeling as he tried to maintain consciousness despite Viktor’s latest bout of brutality. He was facing the wall of the cell, his arms spread wide and chained to the wall as Viktor maliciously struck him over and over. Luke’s voice was hoarse from screaming, long ago having lost the bit of defiance that kept him silent to spite his captor.

He rested his cheek against the wall, taking advantage of a small respite, breathing heavily and squinting against the sweat and blood that ran down into his eyes. In a daze, he opened his eyes and watched as Viktor unlatched one arm. He slumped downwards, unable to bear his own weight, and grimaced as Viktor roughly caught him up. After releasing his other arm, Berdin dragged him over to a chair that had been placed in the middle of the cell. Luke looked down in some confusion. He didn’t recall that chair being there before.

Of course, it was no ordinary chair. Viktor placed Luke’s arms on the arms of the chair, closing manacles that clamped around his wrists. A thick strap was locked around his chest, and Luke tried not to shudder as he wondered what was coming now. Viktor sat down on the edge of Luke’s cot and stared at his prisoner.

The unrelenting gaze unnerved Luke intensely. He was almost more afraid of Berdin when he was calm and cold like this than when he lost his composure, and his temper. When he was in control, the torture tended to last longer.

“I met your father once, you know,” Viktor said, breaking the painful silence.

“What?” Luke asked, confused at the seemingly random comment.

“Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith. The Emperor’s second-in-command,” Berdin said with a slight sneer. “I met him once.”

Luke stared back at Berdin, waiting for him to say something else, wondering why he was talking about this now. When no explanation came, he asked, “And?” in a tone that showed his exasperation.

“And one has to wonder how in the nine hells a being as strong as Vader fathered a weakling and a coward like yourself.”

Luke’s anger spiked at the insult. Normally, he tried to let Viktor’s insults simply roll off his back, but to be called a coward struck straight to his heart. Luke had faced many difficult situations in his life and he’d faced them all bravely, or so he liked to believe. Then he gave Berdin a smirk, some spark of the rebel in him appearing once again.

“Darth Vader was not my father. Anakin Skywalker was, and he was stronger than Vader in the end,” Luke said, putting as much disdain in his voice as he possibly could.

He didn’t really expect Viktor to understand his view of the man who had given him life – even Leia still had a hard time understanding that – and he also knew Berdin would not have any patience with such a vague answer. Predictably, Luke was rewarded with a sharp blow across the face from the back of Viktor’s fist. With a grunt, Luke turned his head back around to give him a baleful glare.

“At least Vader understood the importance of having order in the galaxy! You rebels have mucked everything up,” Berdin snarled.

“There are no rebels anymore. We’re called the New Republic. And at least we don’t try to keep order by constructing a massive weapon!” Luke shot back. I must really have a death wish… he thought to himself, but it was so hard to resist responding to Viktor’s taunts.

That remark earned him a strike in the gut, and the breath whooshed out of him as Luke sagged forward, as much as the strap around his chest would allow. A startled yelp escaped him as Viktor grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back up. The blood in his veins turned to ice as Berdin loosened his tight grip on Luke’s hair, smoothing it back down almost like a mother would do to her child. One hand came around to caress Luke’s cheek, causing the helpless Jedi’s stomach to clench in disgust and fear.

“Ah, Skywalker, you have given me such pleasure during this game. More than anyone I’ve ever played it with,” Viktor said with a chuckle.

His smile made bile rise up in Luke’s throat and he swallowed nervously, trying not to vomit all over Viktor’s shoes. These tiny little touches and strokes had started to come more frequently and Luke felt a crushing dread in his gut at what they might eventually mean. Then the meaning of Viktor’s statement sunk in.

“You’ve done this to other people?” he asked in astonishment. If that were true, how could he have not sensed the pure evil in this man the moment he’d met him in Doctor Mondahl’s office?

Viktor laughed cruelly. “Oh, I’m sorry, Master Jedi, do you think you’re that special? Well, I know you think you are, but I’m sorry to inform you that you are not,” Viktor said nastily. “I do admit that you’re not my usual type of player. Normally, it’s lovely young ladies that I like to play the game with.”

Luke again had to push down the nauseated feeling that was building in his belly. To think of some innocent young woman dealing with all that Viktor had been putting him through…it caused every protective instinct that Luke possessed to utterly rebel.

“Of course, you did require some extra planning and work. I’ve never had to create a clone for any of my players before,” Viktor said.

Luke tried not to let his curiosity about the part of this ordeal that had always puzzled him show, but he knew he was unsuccessful when Viktor smirked at him knowingly.

“You wonder about that, yes? The clone?”

“Yes,” Luke muttered, not seeing the point in denying it, and he never knew how Viktor was going to react to his answers anyway.

“Let us just say that I was very grateful for the sample you naively provided me with. Honestly, with your blind stupidity, I’m surprised you’ve lived as long as you have, especially with all the other beings who despise you floating around in the galaxy.”

Luke ignored the jibe, almost having grown accustomed to them at this point, and focused in on the rest of Berdin’s words.

“But that sample… You didn’t have time to create a clone from that, you couldn’t have.”

Viktor laughed again and Luke could tell he was relishing tormenting his prisoner in yet another way. Determined not to give in to the taunts, Luke waited quietly, saying nothing. One thing he had discovered quickly about Viktor was that the man loved to hear himself talk. If Luke could be patient and not give in to the goading - which was very difficult at times, especially as low as his resistance was lately - then he usually found out what he wanted to know.

“My father was a scientist, Jedi. He helped to develop the original Spaarti cloning cylinders,” Viktor bragged.

Luke tensed at Viktor’s mention of his father. That could sometimes set off a beating, due to Viktor blaming Luke for his father’s death, while at other times, he just loved to reminisce about what a wonderful relationship he and his father had shared. Viktor droned on for a few moments about what a brilliant man his father had been and Luke relaxed slightly. Apparently, it was one of the nostalgic times.

“…so, yes, I suppose you’re correct in saying that five weeks was not enough time if one wanted a fully functioning clone, but…” Viktor trailed off and smiled his evil smile down at his captive. He leaned in close to Luke, and the Jedi Master had to restrain himself from flinching in disgust. “…all yours had to do was die,” he said in a soft, yet somehow menacing tone.

Luke blanched, everything within him utterly repulsed as he realized what Viktor’s words meant. Ever since the moment that Ben Kenobi had introduced him to the mysterious life-energy known as the Force, nearly every waking moment of Luke’s existence had been dedicated to preserving and nurturing life. Yes, there had been instances where he’d had to take life, but Luke regretted and was saddened by each and every one of those, including the Death Star. Perhaps especially the Death Star…

The notion of someone creating life for the sole purpose of later destroying it turned Luke’s stomach. His jaw tightened with the effort of holding his anger back, for he would only earn himself pain if he let Viktor have the blistering rebuttal of his twisted view of life that Luke longed to give. Viktor laughed again at the expression on his victim’s face. Luke was truly beginning to despise the sound of Viktor’s laugh.

“I’m sorry, Master Jedi, do my words offend you?”

“You offend me,” Luke said in a low growl.

Again, Luke’s head snapped to one side from the force of Viktor’s fist to his cheek. This time, on the heels of learning such a demoralizing fact, Luke could not even turn his head back to look at Viktor. He remained staring at the floor, his head hanging low.

“Look at me, Jedi.”

Luke didn’t move. Viktor’s fingers grasped him by the chin and forced his head around. Luke grunted in protest, but was far too weakened to resist Viktor for long.

“How would your father have punished such disobedience, I wonder?” Viktor sneered. “Oh, but we both know, don’t we? Lord Vader loved using his Force,” he still spat the word as though it were a curse, “to choke the very breath from those who displeased him. Have you ever tested that particular skill, Master Skywalker?”

Luke didn’t want to reveal anything to Viktor, but he could not contain the guilt that flashed into his eyes, as he recalled when he had fallen so far at Byss, and what he had done to Han, his brother, his best friend.

“Oh, I see that you have, haven’t you!” Viktor crowed with malicious glee. “And here you’ve been feeling so morally superior. How far the mighty have fallen.”

“I’ve never said that I haven’t made mistakes, but I believe I’ve atoned for them,” Luke said, his jaw aching painfully where Viktor’s fingers were holding him.

Viktor’s face flared into a mask of anger and hatred and he leaned in so close that Luke could feel the hot, harsh breath on his cheeks.

“Not according to me, you haven’t. And I’m the only judge you have to worry about right now, aren’t I?”

Releasing his jaw, Viktor turned away to stalk across the cell to the droid that always waited quietly near the doorway during the ‘game’. The blasted piece of machinery not only brought Luke his meals; the thing also held all the implements that Viktor used to torture his captive with. Luke was uncertain whether he hated the droid, or whether he was glad to sometimes see something that wasn’t hurting him.

Viktor plucked something from one of the droid’s many appendages before turning back to his prisoner. Luke stared at the item Viktor was holding, afraid to think of what it might be for. It was gray in color, and circular in shape, with an opening in the center. Luke’s breathing quickened and his heart rate increased when Viktor flicked a latch on the side of the object, opening it in half. He jerked, trying futilely to get away as the thing was clamped around his neck like a collar.

“This is another one of my little inventions. Not quite as intricate as the disruptor disks, but useful all the same. I’m afraid I’m not very creative when it comes to naming my devices. No fancy monikers here, this one I simply call a constricting collar. Can you imagine what it does with a name like that?” Viktor asked mockingly.

Luke didn’t answer as he dropped his eyes down to the floor. He could feel panic building in his gut and wondered if this was finally it, if this was the day that Viktor was going to end his twisted game, and take his ultimate revenge for his father’s death. The name ‘constricting collar’ and Viktor’s talk of Darth Vader’s use of Force-choking didn’t leave him any doubts as to what was about to happen. Luke closed his eyes, praying for the strength to face his death without fear.

Father, Force willing, I will be with you soon…

Perhaps that line of thought might seem like he was giving up to some people, but gods, he was tired. So very tired of the constant pain and hurt and the crushing loneliness. Leia, Han, Mara, and all his friends had already mourned him. They wouldn’t have to face that pain again, and perhaps soon, they could begin to heal. And he longed to see his father and Obi-Wan and Yoda again… If he concentrated hard enough, it was almost as though he could see them, beckoning him to join them from just beyond the edges of this hated room.

A sharp slap across his face brought him back to reality and Luke looked up at Berdin with a bewildered expression on his face for just a moment.

“Don’t fade on me yet, Skywalker. I have so many more fun games for us to play,” Viktor sneered.

Luke gave the man a cold glare and said sarcastically, “I’m not having much fun. I’d like to lodge a complaint with the management of this establishment.”

Viktor laughed and Luke hated the sound, almost as much as he hated the man.

“Oh, I am delighted that all the fight has not gone out of you yet, Jedi,” Viktor said. “It’s never as much fun for me when the player gives up too soon.”

Luke decided not to respond to that and tensed his muscles, trying to mentally prepare for the ordeal that he knew was forthcoming.

Viktor sat down on the edge of Luke’s cot and pulled a small device out of his pocket with a flourish. Luke’s jaw tightened even more, trying to resist responding to the theatrics.

“Now, let’s see…how did the Dark Lord himself do it? Oh, yes, he would gesture with his hand like so…” Viktor raised his left hand and waved it in the air a few times, while simultaneously pressing a button on the remote he held in his right hand.

Luke gasped as the collar slowly began to constrict around his neck, ever so slowly cutting off his airway. His body jerked against the restraints as he struggled for the air that was being stolen from him bit by bit. Luke’s eyes widened as his gaze locked on Viktor and damn, if the bastard wasn’t still waving his hand around like an idiot.

It was probably only a matter of seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the device around his neck gave a click and a whirring sound, and he was suddenly able to breathe again. Luke took in huge gulps of air, his chest aching terribly, as his head fell onto the back of the chair.

“My, that really does give one a sense of power. I can see why Darth Vader employed it so often. You probably didn’t know what to do with it.”

Luke ignored that slur, not having the energy to reply to it at the moment. Instead, he concentrated on getting his heart rate back down to a normal rhythm. Trembling all over, he wondered painfully if this was what Han had felt all those years ago, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

“That was only twenty seconds, Skywalker. How long do you think it would take to kill you?”

Luke's eyes flew open and he looked at Viktor in shock. His face settled into a glare as he realized Berdin had only said that to get a reaction out of him, and blast the man, he had succeeded.

“Why don't you stop talking about it and go ahead and do it? I'm sick of looking at your face,” Luke snarled.

“Oh, still a little feisty, I see,” Viktor chucked cruelly. He leaned in close so that all Luke could see was that horrible face filling his field of vision. “I look forward to watching you die, Master Jedi, but it will be when I decide, and not before.”

Luke told Viktor what he thought of that in graphic Huttese. Viktor's eyebrow raised and he said, “No need to get so crude, Master Skywalker.”

Casually, he pressed the button on the remote and once again, the collar began to tighten around Luke's throat. Viktor stayed right in his face, seeming to enjoy his captive's torment as he labored to breathe. Luke's fingers clawed into the arms of the chair as he strained and fought violently against the restraints. A haze of red began to cloud his vision and his chest felt unbearably tight, his heart pounding so hard that he could feel it in his ears.

He clenched his teeth as a strangled sounding groan was ripped from his mouth. Viktor's face became blurry and Luke could feel unconsciousness and death only moments away.

“Beg me, Skywalker, and I'll let you live. If not, you die right now. Are you ready to die?” Viktor whispered hurriedly in his ear.

The instinct to survive flared up in Luke and he knew he wasn't ready to die, to give up, not yet. It didn't matter if Viktor won this round, Luke just wanted to breathe! He tried to force the words out of his mouth and couldn't make his tongue form them. Desperately, he stared Viktor in the face, his eyes pleading what his mouth could not.

“Not good enough, Jedi. I have to hear you say it,” Viktor taunted.

Anger burned in Luke's face and in his heart at Viktor's unbearable cruelty. You bastard! I can't, I can't! But he had to and he knew he had to, or this was it, and Luke was not ready for this to be the end.

“Puh...lee...eeezzz.” The word was garbled and barely recognizable, but it must have satisfied Viktor, because the collar whirred and clicked again. Luke sucked in sweet air and immediately fell into a fit of coughing as his overworked body adjusted to having oxygen once more. His lungs burned with the effort of trying to get as much air in them as quickly as he could.

Disoriented, his head swimming, Luke was barely aware as Viktor released the restraints on his arms and chest. A low moan of protest came from his aching throat as Berdin lifted his unresisting body and hefted him over to the cot. Luke collapsed onto the narrow bed, his eyes closing, already near unconsciousness.

He watched through half-slit lids as Viktor headed towards the door of the cell, sending up a silent prayer of thanks that the game was over for the day. Abruptly, Viktor stopped halfway to the door and turned, almost as though he had forgotten something. Luke tensed, worried that he might decide the game wasn't finished for the day after all.

“Skywalker, I did tell you that you've been my favorite player so far, haven't I? And I must thank you for helping me choose my next player. I believe I'll turn back to the ladies and play with that lovely little redhead you've been consorting with,” Viktor said, with a nasty gleam in his eye.

Luke's eyes flew open and he stared at Viktor in a panic. Mara?! NO! he thought wildly. A rush of anger swept through him that was so fierce, had Luke been able to touch the Force right then, Viktor Berdin would be dead on the floor.

“You stay away from her!” Luke said in a rasping voice, for the moment ignoring the pain around his neck.

“Oh, but I'll just bet she'd be a magnificent player! I've read about her...so strong and fiery. How long do you think she'd hold up in my game?”

Luke's body trembled with the urge to throw himself at Viktor and literally choke the life out of him, but he simply did not have the strength to even rise from the cot.

“You bastard! You will not touch her!” Luke screamed, his throat on fire from the effort.

“The best part is,” Viktor said, ignoring Luke's outburst, “is that you'll never know whether she's my next player or not...because by then, you'll already be dead.”

With an evil snarl that could never be mistaken for the smile he probably intended it to be, Viktor swept out of the cell, closing the door on Luke's cries of anguish.

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