Another day in the cell block, another round of torture. Any other man would have begged for death, would have succumbed to the brutalities shone onto him. Yet Han Solo remained. Day after day, he endured, through gritted teeth and blinding pain. And once again, Han Solo would not give in. He would not relinquish his life's essence today, nor any other day, until that woman suffered defeat and death at his hands. He would have his revenge for Chewbacca the Wookiee. The tree tall warrior with the heart of a poet, slain so savagely, would be remembered in her blood. Han strained to open a swollen eye to look around his cell. It had gotten quiet again, and he wasn't sure if the torture was over for the day, or if it was time to reload the sadistic torture droids. His vision was clouded and blurry from the intense trauma to his orbs, not to mention blinded by the blood resting behind his retinas, yet he could make out a few shapes here and there. The torture droids had left, but once again, the red haired woman stood outside the cell block door, watching. Every day, she was there to oversee the bouts of torture, and every day, she stayed behind while they patched him back up again. For whatever reason, regardless how hard Solo worked to sustain himself, the Empire continued to patch his broken bones, torn tissues, and stemmed the flow of blood, all in efforts to keep him alive. While it made no sense, it did make Han's job easier.
The woman was beautiful, Han had to admit. Her long, flowing red hair, crimson like the fires of Mustafar, hung over her shoulders, shielding her eyes from his sight. Her pouty red lips were full and enticing. She was tall, with a slender waist and perfect curves over her hips and chest. Incredibly athletic, Han had no doubt that she was full of stamina and vigor. He couldn't help but be attracted to her, despite the fact that he knew he'd have to kill her to get to that Sith wench. The black and violet armored woman was the right hand of the Sith lady, known now as Darth Leia, and where her mistress went, the woman would follow.
"Why do you feel the need to watch me while I die?" mumbled Han at the woman through a swollen jaw, minus a few teeth. "I'm sure you would get just as much pleasure watching the holovids of the torture sessions."
"You shouldn't speak," purred the woman. She stepped closer to the cell doors, allowing the bright lights to wash over her body. Her pale alabaster skin washed out more than usual in the harsh lights, but it was still very appealing to Han. "You'll need your strength. Lord Vader and Mistress Leia have not called for your death as of yet, so they will continue to torture and heal you, keeping you alive, until they've tired of this. Each session has been recorded and been mandated for replay for all of the ranks, as warning for any others who seek to betray the Empire."
"The tighter they tighten their grasp, the more that will slip through their fingers," said Han with a painful chuckle. "I told you, I won't die until that mistress of yours does. Bring on your worst, I can take it."
"No, Han Solo of Corellia, you can not. Just give in already! What more do you have to prove?" pleaded Smashbolt uncharacteristically. She suddenly shied away, aware of her display of emotion.
"What do you care? You know as well as I do, I'll have to kill you to get to her, so you may as well stop playing nice," gritted Han.
"Oh, dear boy, I've slain more so-called soldiers in more ways than a scruffy looking nerf-herder like you can imagine. Do you really think a beat up, crippled, broken traitor like yourself has a chance?"
"Yeah, I do. Just wait and see, girl. As soon as the chance presents itself, I'll put a blaster bolt right in between those bright green eyes of yours," spat Han.
The woman's lips widened into a grin, as sexy as it was evil. "You are most certainly welcome to try." Smashbolt turned slowly, allowing Han to view all of her curves as she did so, and strode off down the hall.
"And who's scruffy looking?!" shouted Han as the woman left his line of sight.
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The intense lightsaber training had lasted for hours now, innumerable in Leia's mind. There had been no break, no pause, since her father ignited his ruby bladed weapon. Leia responded in kind with here amaranthine sword, matching Vader's blows with her blocks, brushing aside his arcing swings with her parries. Her return assault wasn't nearly as savage or brutal as her father's, but the speed and ferocity more than made up for it. While her muscles were burning from deflecting Vader's power, his lungs were surely burning from defending her speed. Sweat poured from her body, her hair was soaked and stuck to her skull, but she drew upon the Force, and continued to fight her father. All the while, she continued to look for flaws in his style, for openings in his stances, searching for anything she could use when the time came to slay the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader. While today was not that day, it was another day closer to her goal. Today's training prohibits use of the Force as a weapon, only as a means of strengthening the body. While it was natural for Sith to find any and all uses for the Force to defeat their enemies, that was only one use. Sith of the past had fallen because they relied on one facet of the Force, and Vader would not rest until Leia became greater than those who came before her. He would prepare her for her battle with the Emperor, prepare her to be more than the Emperor had ever faced before. His overuse of his Force Lightning would prove to be his undoing.
With a sudden wave of his hand, Vader pushed at his daughter with the Force in an effort to stop the sparring session. However, despite Vader's vast strength and power, Leia hadn't moved an inch. Her Force bubble, along with her own Force abilities, proved to be a dead match for his. Neither combatant budged from their spots, though both had lowered their weapons, extinguishing their blades. "You have done well this day, dear daughter. You are growing stronger in the Force, and faster with your lightsaber. I am most impressed with your abilities, but you are not ready as of yet."
"What makes you so certain I am not, father?" asked Leia, barely out of breath, all appearances to the contrary. I've matched your lightsaber play, thrust for thrust, blow for blow. I've fought you for hours already without giving any ground, all without using the Force for an advantage. Even your attempt to push me away was countered easily enough for me. She stood tall, her chest rising and falling as she took in deep, slow breaths. "I say we take the Emperor soon, and then we shall rule this galaxy as Father and Daughter, as we see fit!"
"As I have said, you are not ready," rumbled Vader. With both hands and with a ferocity that surprised Leia, she was picked up off the ground and thrown against the nearest wall with enough force to blur her vision. As she fell to the ground without any thought of the Force to catch herself, she fought against the impending blackout. She struck the floor hard, and was very slow to move. "Your arrogance will be your undoing, young lady. You disappoint me. Do not ever lower your defenses like that, or you will be dead." Another move of his arm, and she was again yanked off of the floor and flung to the far side of the training room, striking the wall with intense impact.
As she struck the floor for the second time, Leia had no choice but to fall into the darkness, despite her best efforts to draw upon the Force. The last thing she saw before the blackness overtook her was her father storming from the room, his onyx cape flowing angrily behind him.
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The black began to lighten into a mild grey, eventually giving way to a blinding light that hurt Leia's eyes. Her senses were quick to return to her, and she immediately felt a presence. It was her servant and assassin, the woman known as Smashbolt. She stood at attention above her master, helmet cradled under her arm, not uttering a word. "You may speak," uttered Leia as she moved into a sitting position, legs crossed, falling into meditation to regain her strength and composure.
"I only came to see if we had another assignment after your workout," said Smashbolt mater of factly. She did not look down at her Mistress, did not give any hint at her master's apparent failure.
"We do, my pet. Soon. I've been given word that the Rebels have a new leader in their midst, a woman called Mara Jade. She leads them into battle, and has been doing well in her own right. I high think it's time to end her streak," said Leia in a hushed tone. "Yet you have another question. I sense some confusion in you, my dear girl. I pray it has nothing to do with the pitiful male who betrayed our Emperor?"
"It does, Mistress, though I believe you misunderstand my feelings on the matter," said Smashbolt. She knew she was treading on thin ice. Even though she was strong minded, she was no match for her master's wits. "Is there really anything to be accomplished from his continued torture? I know we're broadcasting his pain for the entire Empire to see, as a warning, but perhaps it's having the opposite effect on them. Perhaps, the fact that he is still alive, shows the Empire doesn't have the resolve to destroy their enemies quickly and cleanly. I've even heard that an entire garrison of Stormtroopers have fled the Empire, joining the Rebels."
"Are you questioning the wisdom and resolve of our Emperor and Lord Vader?" asked Darth Leia, eyes suddenly open and ablaze with anger. She rose smoothly to her feet, almost as though she had floated upwards. Leia moved close to her minion and stared into her eyes. "Do you dare question the orders you've been given?"
"No, Mistress Leia, of course not -"
"But you do, child. You do, and you have taken pity on that Rebel scum," seethed Leia. "Do you wish to throw your lot in with that traitor? Would you prefer to suffer along side him?"
"No Mistress Leia." Smashbolt stood still, fully at attention, not flinching at her master's threats.
"LIAR!" roared Leia as she backhanded the red haired woman across the mouth, sending her careening backwards, falling onto her buttocks. By the time Smashbolt had picked her head up, her mistress was already upon her, grabbing at her through the Force, lifting her high off the ground in a Force Choke. Smashbolt's hands immediately came up to her throat, fighting unsuccessfully against the invisible grasp that restrained the air from filling her lungs. Leia hurled the girl aside into a wall, and then again into the opposite wall. She was dropped to the floor, and once again, Leia was upon her. The Dark Lady of the Sith grabbed at Smashbolt's collar and hefted her to her feet and punched her square in the mouth, just as she drove a knee into the girl's abdomen, driving out the precious air she had retained. As Smashbolt fell to the floor, on her hands and knees, gasping for air, Leia raised her boot and brought it down hard on the back of the young woman's skull, driving her face first into the floor. Leia rolled the weak body over onto her back and leaned down to the fallen woman's face. "I highly suggest you reevaluate these thoughts I sense inside of you. You are an Imperial Soldier and my personal assassin. If you aren't those, then you are dead to me, and I'll make sure that is more painful, more brutal, than any you have witnessed before. Now get your pitiful excuse for my Assassin off the ground, get yourself cleaned up. We leave for Ithor in sixteen hours. You had better remember who you are, and where your place is, child."
Leia stood and stalked away to her quarters, her entire body slowing a deep purple in response to her rage and anger. Smashbolt watched until her Mistress left the training room, leaving her alone to herself.
"My name is Thena Skyblade," muttered the battered woman as she stood up. Smashbolt picked up her helmet, staring into the empty eye shield, viewing her own warped reflection. Thena turned and walked down the hall, hips swaying as she did so.
