Undercover

"So... is this the man we are looking for?"
"Yes, but do not indulge in silly plans, Princess Leia. For those like us this guy has one name only: danger."

I smile at Sana's warning, looking back at the holovideo. It features a tall, muscular man with a dark-reddish complexion. The face, hidden in the shadow of a hood, is invisible.
He is the man known all over Nar Shaddaa as the "Gamemaster": warden of the arena of Grakkus the Hutt, and the man who trains the most precious prisoners to fight -and to die- for the fun of the criminals who crowd the arena. If rumors are true, Luke has fallen into the hands of Grakkus, so the one in the video should be the man in charge of our Jedi apprentice. The only person who can lead me to Luke. Or, at least, who could give me precise information. Assuming there is a way we can approach him. Sana is telling me there are not many chances...
"Despite the title, this Gamemaster is also a slave. He never leaves the Hutt's palace alone. We have no hope of getting close to him.."
I nod, considering all the options. An absurd plan begins to take shape in my mind.

"And no stranger can enter, unless they are Grakkus guests, musicians called to play at his parties, or prostitutes" Sana adds.
Words come out before I can stop them. "Well, unfortunately I do not remember anything of the singing classes I was forced to attend, thus I think I'll dress up as a woman of pleasure."
I said it casually, suppressing a shiver. How far do I have to carry my charade?
Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Sana rests a hand on my arm. Her eyes cannot hide how startled she is. My boldness surprises me too, but I refuse to be intimidated by my own fears. Once I sacrificed a whole planet to save the Rebel Alliance, my body is a small price in comparison.
"Sorry, I did not get it" Sana exhales, eyebrows furrowed.

I crosses my arms under my breasts, trying to show all of my determination. "Look, we have to find out where Luke is. Soon. If I have to pretend to be a whore to get that information, I'll do it. I have already been on undercover missions aboard imperial ships, I know what awaits me."
"No, you do not know" Sana protests, shaking her head. The dark dreads move around his head like snakes, mesmerizing me. "You are a rebel, of course, but you are also the Princess of Alderaan. The imperials have one little ounce of respect for you. The worst that can happen is that they imprison you."
Anger roses like a hot magma inside me. "What? Last time I was in their hands Vader tortured me, and Tarkin destroyed my home planet!" I protest, but Sana dismisses my retort with a condescending smile.
"Good, but you're still alive and without mutilations. Should the goons of Grakkus discover you, be sure you'll end up raped, skinned alive and fed to the beasts of the arena. Perhaps not in this order."
She is true, but I insist. My personal safety is nothing in comparison to what there is a stake. "I know, but Luke's in danger, and with him the whole Resistance is menaced. He is our last hope." I take a deep breath, staring at Sana. She looks unconvinced. "I'm ready to do anything to find him."
"Even to seduce a complete stranger?"
"Of course, I did it before" I admit, pretending to be braver than I actually feel. And, yet, my stomach clenches hard.
The smirk on Sana's lips speaks volumes of what she thinks of my overconfidence. "Forgive me Your Highness, and allow this humble smuggler to rearticulate the question: are you ready to fuck a stranger?" she asks me, her dark eyes flashing a condescending expression. "You won't be attending a party like those your parents gave. You won't be asked to flutter you eyelashes at some inept imperial officer, who can be satisfied with innocent kisses." Sana indicates the window behind her. From the street below, cries and curses filter through the curtains. "This is Nar Shaddaa, honey, the worst den of iniquity and criminals of the Galaxy. Do you think the guy will show you any respect? I highly doubt it. In the arena, he's a sadistic killer, and outside… well, you do not know what kind of kinky games he likes. Did I make myself clear?"
Embarrassed I flushes, but I refuse to change my mind. I do not even lower my gaze, braving staring into her eyes.

"Do I look like a naive virgin to you?" I retort. "I've been fighting in the Rebel Alliance for years, and I have my experience with men. I admit I never... found myself in a situation like this but, as I already told you, I am ready to do anything to find Luke. He is more important than my dignity."
Finally, my obstinacy overcomes Sana's objections; the woman shrugs. "Then do as you wish, the body is yours. I have a friend who provides women for Grakkus, her name is Amamia, and she owes me many favors. I'll ask for her help."
I nod, determined like never before. "Good. Let's do it so."

We've been on Nar Shaddaa for a few hours, and Sana is hiding us in her apartment. Han is around looking of information, but I cannot wait anymore, every passing minute not knowing where Luke is, it is a torture I cannot bear anymore.
I have to move forward with my plan before Han comes back. If he was here he would protest, but I have no desire to argue with him. Nothing would make me change my mind.
And, then, Han tried to hide me the fact he's married with Sana, and the thought still hurts. Did he think that few sweet words and a bottle of wine would have been sufficient for me to fall all over him? He's only a silly liar. It will be a long time before I trust him again.

I get off the speeder with all the elegance allowed by the vertiginous heeled sandals that Sana made me wear. The hefty bounty on my head does not allow to show up at Grakkus' palace with my face in display, so Sana and her friend transformed me into an attractive stranger: an exotic Twi'lek prostitute with pearl-white skin. When I saw myself in the mirror, I did not recognize myself.
I put the hood over the lekku, glancing at my hands covered in pigment. Sana assured me that only the proper cleansing agent can remove it, and not if someone rubs his hands on me. A shiver runs along my back at the thought; I pretended to be brave in Sana's face, but I hope to find Luke's whereabouts before having to open my legs.
"Come on" Amamia urges me, laying a hand on my back and gently shoving me.

We make our way through the crowd to Grakkus' palace entrance, and soon we draw the attention of the guards at the door. The most heavily armed one leaves the group and comes to meet us, nodding to Amamia.
"Amamia, it's always a pleasure to see you here. Loar told me that you were coming with a girl for him."
"Yes" the woman answers. "An albino Twi'lek. Rare item!"
The guard, a sturdy human male with a shaved head and full beard, reaches out with his spear to pull my cloak back and expose my body, covered only with a see-though, insubstantial dress. Discreetly, I allow the examination, also flashing a lascivious smile for good measure. Judging from the appreciative look on his hideous face, the jerk is convinced I must be some kind of high-profile prostitute. He seems intoxicated by the color of my skin, alabaster with a pearly reflection.
"She's not super curvy, but she's a pretty little toy, though…" he manages to elaborate, not able to tear his eyes off my bosom. "Loar will be happy, but this one is intended as a gift, am I right? We both know that lazy pimp likes furries." The guard lowers his voice. "Amamia, who will be the lucky utilizer of this jewel?"
The woman shakes her shoulders. "I have no idea, as usual. I just provide girls for Loar's expensive giveaways, but it's not my job to stick my nose where it doesn't belong. Neither is yours, I suppose…"
"Actually, yes, but Loar pays my discretion well. Save this girl for me for my next shift off."
"Nope, dear" she giggles, waving a hand at the brute, almost with affection. "This one is a precious thing, a princess among her people. You can't afford her. I'll book you your usual sweetie. Now, can you let my Twi'lek in? We are already late."
With one last look at Amamia, I force myself to follow the guard, walking carefully not to stumble in my heels.

The tension inside me is escalating, but the way they treated me has strengthened my resolve.
They talked as if I were just a piece of meat only good to be passed from hand to hand. The mere thought enrage me to no end: slavery is a monstrous, aberrant thing, and the Empire is allowing it. Come what may, I swear to myself that I will put an end to it.

The interior of the Grakkus' palace is luxurious and spacious, the large corridors apt for the stride of a Hutt, but everything, from the golden ceiling to the red curtains that adorn the walls, has a distinctive louche and decadent appearance.

Left alone, I take a couple of tentative steps, before seeing a Rodian rushing towards me. The look in his eyes is indiscernible to me, but I do not miss how fervently he rubs his hands one against the other. He must be Loar, and he is clearly satisfied with my appearance. He knows nothing about my cover, and he considers me just an ordinary whore.
"Ohhh, and so you're Amamia's new girl" he greets me, with the gentle tone of a courtesan eager to serve his master in any possible way. "What's your name, honey?"
"Leia" I answer, keeping my voice low and obedient. In agreement with Sana we decided to keep my name, to avoid too many complications. All things considered, none could associate this pale Twi'lek to the Rebel Princess.
"Very sweet. Come, I'll take you to the spa, there you'll find the person you're looking for. I do not know what Amamia told you, but you have to be careful: the Gamemaster is a man who seems to enjoy solely the bloody shows he organizes in the arena. He never attends the parties Grakkus holds, and he has always refused my girls. "Loar exhales a disconsolate sigh. "They were pretty... gifts, you know... but that's a boring and violent man..."
I nod, trailing behind the Rodian, and trying to remember the way out. It could be useful.

His words worry me. If the guy is truly immune to my attempts to seduce him, I have no idea what else I could do to find Luke. None of the Grakkus' servants would ever reveal anything to me, both Sana and Amamia were very clear about it.

In the palace, the spa is located a couple of levels below the street. The Rodian stops and he indicates me a double-edged door decorated in a gold and blue coating, from which a delicious scent filters.
"Here we are. The spa is on the other side of the door. I confirm you that the Games Master is in there. Alone. I'll wait for you here ... I think I'll see you very soon."
Annoyed, more than scared, I stretch my lips in a dry smile. Courtesans like him has always disgusted me. "Hopefully not, it would mean that I'm incredibly inept at my own job."
I ignore him. With no trace of hesitation I open the door and I slip inside, probably too boldly for my own good.

Vast, warm rooms open before my eyes; thermal vapors saturate the air and a delicate perfume lingers. It should be precious Naboo incense. It scent makes me dizzy, but the sensation is not unwelcomed: it is helping to keep my nervousness at bay. With slow, lazy movements I unfasten my cloak, letting it fall to the ground: I no longer need it.

The hall is dim, the only light given by lamps placed in the walls, and the corridor is a simple stone walkway laid over pools of bubbling warm water; they are inviting and, even if I took a long bath before turning into a Twi'lek, I would enjoy second round.
From openings in walls waterfalls plunge into the pools, keeping the place humid and warm. After a few steps the dress is glued to my skin, wet and revealing. I could take it off, but the idea of presenting myself naked -and completely accessible- in front of a stranger makes me uncomfortable.
I do not carry weapons of any kind, with the exception of a mandalorian dagger shaped like a bracelet, coiled around my left arm. Amamia warned me that it will be completely useless, if it is true what they say of the Gamemaster, but I insisted on bringing it. As long as I have this, I won't feel totally vulnerable.

One room follows another, until I reach one probably dedicated to relax, if I have to judge from the amount of pillows, low mattresses covered with fine golden fabrics, and comfortable sofas. Colored blades of light, cascading from tall, decorated hopper windows, delicately lit the place. The effect is surprising, but I have no time to admire it, my eyes draw to the only other person in the room beside me.

The Gamemaster is seated on one of the sofas, arms resting on the back and his legs stretched out before him. The man wears only a towel around his hips, while another one is draped over his head.
My breath stops. Now that the time has come my boldness is evaporating. Also because the videos make a poor job of displaying how the man is imposing. He is tall, well over six feet of massive muscles, broad shoulders, and biceps as big as my thigh. I bet he could strangle me with one hand only.
And here I am. Petite, slender, almost naked with only a toothpick as a weapon. The demented idea I had, now it is showing all of its limits. If Sana was here, she would laugh at my face. Hard.

The shadow of the towel, placed like a hood over the man's head, makes his features indistinguishable, but I have the distinct feeling he is not happy to see me here.

"And who would you be?"
The question confirms my supposition. The man's voice is a low baritone, not unpleasant, but it sounds mildly irritated.
"Leia. Amamia sends me. "
"Great. Can come back to her. The door is behind you."
"You cannot send me away, I'm a gift..."
"Unwanted."
"Amamia will punish me if I come back to her without... without having done my job..."
"I won't call that a job... but, well, it's not my problem. Go away."
Bewildered, I throw an annoyed look at the man. The guy is as nice as the idea of jumping into a Sarlacc pit, but he said something interesting. Something I can use as a leverage.

Probably I am risking my life, but I decide to move closer. I am irritated, and when I am in such a state I tend to be careless, but it cannot be helped. I won't be turned down by an insolent brute who surely has more muscles than brain. Not when he is my only chance to find Luke.

I move gracefully, as if I were striding through the halls of my father's palace, and I stop when there are only a couple of steps between us. He has not moved, flinched, or said anything. A durasteel sculpture would look more alive. My lips involuntarily bend into a grimace, observing the multitude of scars –some deep some just a scratch- that mark the man's arms and torso. I recall what Sana told me: he is a fighter, but a slave nonetheless; he is not having an easy and comfortable life.

However rudely, he decides to pay me attention. "Do you see something you don't like?"
I shake my head. "Actually no... I'm just amazed."
"At?"
I would like to reply that I am in awe at the fact that he has not tried to kill me, but I decide it is healthier not to point it out. Instead, I wave an hand at him, trying to keep my tone as even as if I was chatting with my friend Amilyn Holdo.
"Those scars. Why are you keeping them? They could be easily removed."
It takes him almost a whole minute to reply. "Useless. I'm not the one who has to look good in the arena. And, then, they are a reminder."
"Of what?"
"Of all the times something or someone has tried in vain to kill me. I was six the first time."

Six?

Now his voice has lost the edge, and it sounds only apathetic. As if the Gamemaster was talking about something that has lost all the importance it once had. Or is he just feigning indifference?
With one hand the man removes the towel from his head. "The scars remain. I do not want to forget how my life used to be… before."

My brain does not have time to process what is the meaning of that "before", because it takes me all the courage I could muster just to keep looking at him, and not to shrink away in revulsion.
I though he was older, but the absence of wrinkles and the firm texture of his skin tell me he's rather young, probably no more than thirty years old. The Gamemaster is a man who could have been attractive, if the lower part of his face was not disfigured by deep, old scars. Cold blue eyes stare at me, spying my every move, and shifting from my face to the mandalorian bracelet and back again.

Oddly enough, the big guy is being defensive more than aggressive. Perhaps this is his combat style, but I am not a gladiator, nor a beast poised to attack him. My fears and apprehension disappear all of a sudden, while I settle my resolve.
Despite being a hulking and intimidating presence, the Gamemaster has revealed, perhaps involuntarily, a rather evident vulnerability. He is dangerous, one who kills without a second thought, but I sense he is also a wounded man resigned to a life of violence. Someone without any hope, and who hates slavery and being a slave.
Under his intense scrutiny, I take off the mandalorian bracelet and I throw it away. It lands tinkling into a corner of the room. I do not need it anymore.

I did not lie to Sana. I was prepared to have sex with a stranger, only I hoped he was not completely physically and emotionally repellent. Luckily, the Gamemaster is neither. On the contrary, that weakness he admitted, probably the only one he possesses, intrigues me. And those eyes… he has the look of a victim turned villain. It should scare me, instead it is triggering another kind of emotional response.

Words come out effortlessly.

"You are a slave, and you hate slavery. I understand... I cannot stand it either."
"So you should not be here. Go away, just tell them you did what you had to do, and that your… services were appreciated."
This time his tone is lapidary, the disdain clear in his words, but I will not let myself be discouraged.
Shaking my head, I close the distance between me and the sofa. I put one knee on the edge, next to the Gamemaster's leg, then I lean towards him, placing a hand against the sofa back. I still do not dare to touch him.
"Back away" he tells me, but his words lacks conviction.
That the man is attracted to me, it is painfully obvious. He cannot tear his pale eyes off me, and his whole body is tense, but I can feel that the pressure mounting between us do not exude aggression. It is something else entirely. The gleam behind his gaze that gives away his excitement is unmistakable.

How could it not be otherwise? In this attire I am one the most stunning females I have ever seen. I do not know man who could resist me, and I bet this one won't prove me wrong.
I smile at him, vaguely allusive, my heart bursting in my chest. This whole, excruciating process to turn him on it is having an effect on me too. As if a fire has suddenly lit inside me, I feel my cheeks and neck flush.

"No" I answer, my voice no more than a whisper. "I'm not backing away and I'm not leaving. You are a challenging man, Amamia knows it perfectly, but this assignment was not forced on me. I am here of my own free will."
I raise my free hand to caress his face, barely touching the skin, then I proceed down the neck, and I stop to lay my hand on his stomach, savoring his hard abdominal muscles tightened under my touch. His skin is warm, slightly moistened. I lower myself to brush his jaw with my lips. "I heard stories about you... I saw holovideos of you fighting scary monsters... I was so eager to meet the bravest gladiator of Nar Shadaa."
His eyes move from mine to my lips. This guy is not an easy one, but I do not think he can resist me much longer.
"You're not credible" he says, with a voice distinctly low and unsteady.
I smile again, while the fingers of my left hand draw small circles on the sensitive skin around his navel.

I like this game too, and I do not have to pretend to be drawn to him. I definitely am. Shame on me, but the attraction for bad guys has always been my weak point, much to my loving aunts despair.
"Oh, come on. Look at me. You have no idea how desperately I desire you. Do you want me on my knees?"
I alter my tone, choosing to play the part of the proud noblewoman annoyed because someone is denying her desires. It is easy for me, I just have to remember who I am, before being a rebel: a princess born from the purest nobility of Alderaan, educated to be a queen. The heir of a destroyed planet, ready to do the unthinkable to destroy the Empire.
I am tired of playing, so I gingerly slip the tip of my fingertips under the edge of the towel covering his hips. Shuddering under my touch, the Gamemaster lowers his eyes, slightly parting his lips.
"I'm here because I chose to" I whisper, and it is the absolute truth.

Suddenly, I feel his hands clasp around my waist. He flips me on my back on the sofa, laying over me. The move was not particularly violent, but I have the distinct feeling of being nothing more than a doll in his hands. Still, he just hovers over me, and I sense the man is fighting against his instinct to send me away.
Not hiding my frustration, I stare at him, placing both hands on his biceps.
"Big guy, you don't trust anyone, do you? Maybe it's better to stop talking... yes, let me show you what I want…"
I slid my hands higher, lacing them behind his neck and gently pulling his head down. I catch the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes, before I press my lips firmly to his.

Prostitutes never kiss their customers, Amamia warned me, but I am not a whore and the man whose mouth I am tasting is not a customer. His eager response tells me he is not too zealous in following stupid rules either. A tiny part of my brain wonders how many of my other self-inflicted restraints I am going to disrupt in the next hours but, then, who cares? I am legally a rebel, bending rules is in my genetic code.

I shiver in pleasure as I wrap my legs around his waist, grinding my core against his prominent erection. There is definitely too much fabric between us, but he seems to have read my mind.
The Gamemaster finally removes the towel that was still covering his hips and then he lift mine, sliding my dress around my waist. A deep, animalistic growl escapes me as he suddenly drives his full length deep into me. He's big, but I was ready, and just a quick flash of pain shoots through me, quickly overcame by the wondrous feeling of having the man I so wanted inside me. I arch up, needing to be closer.

There is nothing tender about our coupling, his powerful strokes teetering me on the razor's edge of pain and pleasure, but I am thoroughly enjoying it. All of a sudden, my body seems to yearn for more, for the bliss of rapture that I denied myself for too long.

I dig my fingers into my lover's back, writhing under him to rub my clit against his warm skin. I tilt my hips, taking his thick length as deep as I can. I ask him, I beg him to thrust in me faster and harder.

My breathing became erratic as I feel a familiar pressure building inside me. Suddenly my body spasms violently against the man, in an ecstatic orgasm that makes me scream and arch against my lover. A few seconds later, I feel him coming inside of me.

Panting, I remain still, pinned beneath the man, my hands flat on his back. He has yet to say a word, his breath still controlled and even. The only sign of aliveness are his fingers, that are gingerly playing with the tips of my lekku.
They are stuck to my head via elaborate biomechanical grafting, and his touch gives me shivers along the whole surface of my skull and down my neck.
I feel languid and dazed, but I need answers, not to have sex again… at least not so soon.

"I need a shower. I'm dripping..." I whisper to his ear, my lips languidly brushing against his skin. I cannot stop thinking at the pools in the other rooms. Dim light, warm water, an ambiguously relaxed situation... maybe there I could convince the big guy to talk. "Would you come with me?"
The Gamemaster shifts his weight to let me raise to my feet, returning to sit comfortably on the sofa, as if nothing has happened.
He keeps glaring at me, with those blue eyes startling against the dark-reddish skin. I have the impression he is considering what to do with me, emotionless and unreadable like a surveillance droid.

I have almost lost my hopes when a pale smile creeps onto his lips.

"Why not?" he replies, making it sound like a benevolent concession. Like something I have not deserved.
Mother of moons… this guy's behavior is maddening. Despite the sex, his voice keeps intact a certain controlled inflection, an enigmatic coldness that is turning me on again.
Defiantly, I exhale a deep sigh, ripping the useless dress off me. It won't be easy to extort the information out of him.

Not at all.

I reappear in the hall a couple of hours later, unsteady on my legs and sore all over. Probably the Rodian was sure he would have never see me again, because he stares at me as if I had grown another head.
"Fabulous, this is awesome, just awesome!" he thrills. "We should go into business together! Why have I never seen you here before?"
"Look, I work on my own, and I'm just passing through on Nar Shadaa. Occasionally I work with Amamia. But not often" I mumble, desiring only a bed where to crash.
I tighten the cloak around me, dismissing the Rodian. I am still amazed that I will be walking out of Grakkus' palace with all my limbs still in place but, regrettably, I have failed in my mission.

Despite all of my efforts, the Gamemaster did not reveal anything to me, except that in a few days Grakkus will organize an impressive show, a fight people have not seen before on Nar Shaddaa.
I have my doubts that Luke could be the star of the show. The boy certainly has more value if delivered in the hands of the Empire, but the Hutts are so depraved that you can never be sure of what crosses their sick minds.

The door of Grakkus palace opens to let me out. Amamia is waiting for me close to the speeder. When I reach her, her worried expression melts in an amused grin. I will not say a word to Sana, but I cannot hide how exhausted I am to Amamia. In that field, the woman is a consummate professional, and right now she is reading me like an open book.
"I'm surprised. Never thought I'd see you again. Much less alive and in one piece." Her eyes run along my body. "And it seems you have enjoyed it…"
"Not at all. It was a nightmare" I lie.
The woman giggles as she helps me sit in the speeder. "Fine. Stew in your embarrassment, but if you don't want Sana to know the truth, have the decency to sober up. You're still so excited that your nipples are piercing through your cloak.
Outraged, I sink in a resentful silence. Be cursed that place and all of its depraved inhabitants!

Nonetheless, she is right, of course. The Gamemaster is not probably the best lover in the universe, but he has stamina and he is in amazing shape, and I had fun with him. He did not show an ounce of empathy or a single genuine emotion, but I know it was better this way. It was just hot, steamy sex with no strings, and it was great. I was always in control, he did not force me to do anything I did not want, and the fact he did not know who I really was, helped me to crumble all my morals.

For the past, few hours, I was not Leia Organa. Nor I was the daughter of assassinated parents, or the rebel consumed by revenge. I was only a young woman having a good time.

I caress my lekku. Now they feel heavy on my head. I will miss them…

Surprise surprise, it was Luke the very star of Grakkus' show; and he was destined to die at the hands of a bloodthirsty monster under the eyes of thousands of paying spectators.
Ironically, the show was disrupted by the arrival of the Imperials. In the mob that erupted between them, Grakkus' guards and some assorted beasts, we had the chance to save Luke and to bring him safe and sound aboard the Millenium Falcon.

We left Nar Shaddaa immediately, and we have been traveling for a couple of days, but Luke has yet to regain his usual vitality. I stare at him, sadly bent over Obi-Wan Kenobi's diary, as if it hides some important Jedi secret.
There was much more that belonged to the Jedi in the Grakkus' vault, he told us, but with the Imperials everywhere there was no time to save anything.

And what about me? How do I feel? I do not know whether to laugh or to throw me out of the nearest airlock.

I was in the arena when the Gamemaster faced Luke and, even in the midst of the confusion, I heard perfectly what the man told to Skywalker. Those words made me almost drop the lightsaber I was holding.

"I'm a Stormtrooper, Vader's Fist."

The realization hit me like a blaster shot. The guy was an Imperial agent infiltrated to spy on Grakkus. Worse: he was a soldier of the infamous 501st, the legion of Stormtroopers handpicked by Darth Vader himself for their competency, brutality, and loyalty to the Empire.

Disconsolate, I glance at Sana. She decided to come with us; right now she is playing sabacc with Han and Chewbacca.
She explained me that "their" marriage was just a fraud, as Han had tried to explain me for days. That time I had not believed him. Later I apologized to both he and Sana, feeling stupid.

Did I launch myself in that crazy undercover mission because of a silly idea of revenge against Han? Because I had to prove him I did not trust, nor need him to save Luke? Because I had to show him how strong, how self-sufficient I was?
Well, I suppose I proved my point. Even if technically my mission was a failure, I survived. I was brave, cunning and resolute.

Thus, why do I feel so guilty?

Absentmindedly, I stare at my hands.

I know why.

It is not because of the inane inutility of what I did, or because I feel dirty for having screwed an Imperial spy, but because I enjoyed every moment of it. Every kriffing moment of it.

I clench my fingers together.

Let me reconsider. I blame myself for what I felt there, but should I?

How many Imperial agents did our spies seduce? I met some of those brave men and women, and almost none of them was sorry. Actually, they were quite keen on bragging about their conquests.

I should stop tormenting myself.

And I should forget what happened. If only the details were still not so vivid…

I blush violently and, raising my head, I discover the piercing glare of Han Solo fixed on me. Completely caught off guard I blink and, misunderstanding my thoughts, the smuggler shoots me a suggestive grin.

The intolerable nerf-herder. What should I do with you?

I firmly held his gaze, desiring to be a Force user too, just long enough to have him scrub the Millenium Falcon bridge clean with his insolent mug, shamelessly attractive.

Who does he think he is? Just because he seduced countless women all across the Galaxy does he think he can win me just flashing one of his trademark smiles?

Oh no. I'll show you how wrong you are.

I square my shoulders, parting my lips in a mischievous grin. It is pleasing to see his smile falter.

I am no prim and proud princess with no experience whatsoever. You have your notches on your belt, but I but I have mine. I won't be an easy prey.

Not at all.

Notes

I suppose this story will guarantee me a ticket for the deepest hell ❤
Thanks to AtlantisLux who challenged me to write a fanfic where Leia has an hot intercourse with someone else than Han.
I picked up Kreel "the Gamemaster" as her "lover".
AtlantisLux is a fan of this character, so he was an ideal choice. But also because I can't stop laughing if I think at Vader's face, should the Dark Lord discover that the sergeant has blissfully banged his daughter during a mission.
Lovely Dad!Vader ❤

Unfortunately English is not my mother tongue, so this is sadly just a translation. Hopefully it's not too lame. Don't hate me for my mistakes...