Chapter Three:

Luke wished there was more he could do to comfort his son as he, Ben and Mara sat huddled together in their cell. Their son was obviously in pain from the scratches on his back, and there were hideous bruises on his throat where the Whiphid had choked him.

Not to mention that Ben's little body hadn't stopped quivering since they'd arrived in this detention cell.

At least he's not bleeding anymore. Luke mused, trying to think positively.

Mara stroked their son's head lovingly, even as he clung tightly onto his father. Her head rested on Luke's shoulder, and though they could not touch the Force, he could feel her anger at their situation.

A sniffle escaped Ben, causing Luke's heart to clench. He'd never felt so helpless: here he was with his family, being taken who-knew-where, unable to access the Force… and he had no way to get his wife and child to safety.

His son needed medical attention, and soon, or his cuts would grow infected. The amount of blood the boy had lost alarmed Luke to no end, and he knew it was part of the reason the boy couldn't stop trembling: he was weak and exhausted, yet too afraid to sleep.

The one time he'd been able to drift off in the seven hours Luke estimated they'd been in hyperspace, he had woken up screaming from a nightmare.

Luke wanted to shout in frustration, and with each passing hour, he grew more determined to do whatever it took to protect his family.

Whatever the cost to himself, Mara and Ben would get through this.

The door opened and the lead Whiphid strode through, causing Ben to whimper in fear and hug into Luke's chest even tighter.

"Shh, Ben," Luke soothed. "It's going to be okay."

"He hurt me Daddy," Ben whispered around a fresh bout of tears.

Luke couldn't stop a few of his own hot tears from falling as he replied. "I know, Son."

"We will be reverting to realspace soon." Their captor informed them. "Unfortunately you may not be conscious for our arrival, so enjoy your last few seconds together."

Before anyone could object, the being was out the door, slamming it closed with a wicked chuckle. Not a minute later a hissing sound emitted from a floor-vent, and a greenish gas rapidly filled the air.

"Daddy…" Ben's voice quavered, his small frame curling against Luke.

"It's going to be okay, Sweetheart, we will be okay," Mara assured her son. But both she and Luke knew that the likelihood of them being separated while they were out was almost a hundred percent. "This gas will just make us go to sleep for a while."

"It won't hurt us?" Ben inquired sleepily.

"No," Luke whispered, already nearly asleep himself. "I love you both."

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The first thing he was aware of upon regaining consciousness was that his head was pounding as though a stampede of reeks were thundering about his skull. He reflexively went to touch the Force to ease the throbbing, but then remembered that he couldn't touch the Force.

Luke opened his eyes slowly, trying to bring his world into focus. As he did so, he became aware of the fact that it was cold, and his arms were tingling and heavy. Upon closer inspection, he realized that his wrists were chained together above his head.

But it was the sight that greeted him when he returned his now clear gaze to fore that really woke him up. He sucked in a terrified breath, unable to help his galloping heart upon spotting his beloved wife strapped by all four limbs to a metallic grate.

Her head slumped down to her chest, and there were lacerations crisscrossing her body. She was drenched in sweat, and it was obvious her breathing was labored.

"Mara!" he cried, surging forward.

This had to be a nightmare, a wretched, horrible nightmare! At the sound of his voice, her head lifted just enough for her eyes to meet his.

Their view of one another was blocked by a blue-skinned Duros male.

"Ah, good, you are at long last awake!" the alien grinned, his bulbous red eyes glittering. "Now we can begin again."

He turned a knob below the window, and Mara screamed as voltage coursed through her. Luke was mortified, his mouth open in a silent shriek as his voice abandoned him. Just when Mara began to slump again in her restraints, the Duros cut the flow.

She trembled from head to foot, breathing hard as her body fought the effects of her torture.

"Welcome to my secondary lab." The Duros made a grand gesture encompassing both rooms. "As I told your wife, I am Doctor Quritz Zem. I will be the one in charge of making you and your lovely family comfortable during your very short stay here."

Luke felt rage boil up inside of him and he charged toward the window, only to be yanked back as he reached the previously unknown length of his chains.

"Leave Mara alone!" Luke hollered, trying to stop his jerky spins as the chain tried to return to its previous position.

"Ah, you humans are no fun," Quritz pouted. "Always so eager to give in, just so you don't have to watch your loved ones suffer."

He grinned wickedly, and tauntingly caressed the knob just below Luke's view. "Is a little bit of agony so unbearable for such an inferior species to behold? After all, pain can be such a wonderful thing."

Luke didn't deign to answer that, instead asking a question of his own. "What do you want from us?"

The Duros continued to play with his 'toy' as though he hadn't heard the Jedi. When Mara began to jerk again as the male slowly turned the dial, Luke fought valiantly against his restraints.

"STOP IT!" Luke shrieked.

Mara continued to convulse, and the Duros turned to watch for a second, tilting his head to listen to Luke's protests. Finally he yawned as if bored, and gave Mara a break.

Turning to Luke, he gave the Jedi a hard glare. "You will become enslaved my mistress, with no real chance of ever returning to your previous life." He tilted his head. "I wonder what will become of the precious Jedi Order in the absence of its beloved leader?"

"Luke…" Mara puffed. "D-don't!"

"Mara, I can't just…"

"Don't… let him win, Luke!" Mara pleaded defiantly.

The Duros spun around, slapping her on the face. She rolled with it, spitting out blood— making sure to aim for his boots— and then laughing in his face. That only served to enrage Quritz even more, and he grabbed a scalpel and stabbed it into Mara's shoulder.

She cried out in agony even as Luke hollered for it to stop.

00000

Huddled in the farthest corner of his dank and frigid cell, Ben shivered and wept. He didn't understand why he could not be with his mommy or daddy. He did not know why the mean aliens came to their camp and took them all away.

He did not like the pain he was in, or the screams he could faintly hear from down the hall. But he did know that he was starving, and though the bread they had given him smelled horrible, he was too hungry to care anymore, so he forced himself to eat it.

Ben tried to feel his parents' emotions, but for some reason he couldn't, and that frightened him.

Were his parents dead?

Please, don't let my mommy and daddy be dead! Ben prayed.

00000

Luke was forced to endure the horror-show of this enraged, and obviously unstable 'doctor' inflict injury after injury on his beloved wife.

The Duros was frenzied; completely blinded to the fact that Mara was beyond responding to his punishments. Luke didn't try to halt the hot tears burning his cheeks, even as he strained constantly against his wrist cuffs.

But the Duros had done well in restraining him. Even if he were to break through the cuffs, there were no visible doors in the room, and Luke had no doubt the window was unbreakable.

"STOP IT!" Luke screamed on an already raw throat. "You're killing her! Please stop!"

That finally gave the mad scientist pause, and he actually back-stepped fearfully, muttering curses in his own language.

"Please!" Luke begged. "I will do whatever you ask of me! Just let my wife and son go home safely!"

The Duros turned to Luke, breaking from his funk. "You will become a willing participant in whatever you are assigned to do. Do you readily give yourself to my mistress?"

Luke didn't even hesitate. "Yes!"

Red eyes stared at blue for long, drawn-out moments before the alien nodded.

"Very well. We slaved your private vessel, so your family will be allowed to return home." Quritz pushed a new button, this one on the wall, and a vid-screen lit up in Luke's room, showing a live feed of both Mara and Ben. "You will be allowed to witness their departure before we make our own. Where do you want your family to go?"

"Coruscant," Luke replied.

"Luke…" Mara groaned weakly. "N-no…"

"I'm sorry, Mara." Luke told her. "I have no choice."

"No, you really don't." Quritz snickered.

Mara was too weak to protest as a mask was placed over her face, and the same gas that was used on them previously was again administered to her. She went limp on the table, and only then did Quritz signal for help removing her.

He watched as Ben was roughly moved from his cell, his little face pale and sickly. When the group arrived at the docking hatch for the Skywalker's ship, Luke spotted the first welcome sight he'd seen all day: Artoo Detoo. The astromech appeared at the entrance to the Jade Shadow and followed the group as they settled Mara into an acceleration couch, and then tried to enter the cockpit.

The droid beeped and whirred angrily, demanding to know what was going on, but the lead guard merely shoved the droid out of his way. Ben was thrust into his own couch and strapped in place.

Then the men were leaving, and Luke watched as the Jade Shadow moved away from the ship it was clamped to, and make its way to the jump point.

"I love you both," Luke whispered, fighting the urge to blink until the ship disappeared into lightspeed.

As soon as the ship was gone, Luke let his head fall to his chest and he began to sob brokenly.

00000

Artoo at long last righted himself, and immediately rolled as fast as his treads would take him to check on his Mistress Mara and Master Ben. It was only then that the little droid realized that Master Luke was not there.

Artoo tweeted in confusion, turning his photoreceptor toward Ben, who was looking rather green by human standards. His circuits computed that the little boy would be sick soon, and he hustled to the refresher to grab the trash receptacle.

Ben seized it with a white-knuckled grasp and immediately began to heave and wretch into the provided can. It was several long minutes later when the child finally set the can down, and Artoo had to admit he was glad he couldn't smell the foul semi-liquid.

Artoo rolled closer, beeping softly. His photoreceptor moved from Mistress Mara, who was completely unresponsive and very much injured, to little Master Ben, who was almost unconscious himself.

"Artoo." Ben patted Artoo's blue and silver dome in what the droid recognized from years of experience was the humans' way of showing affection. "Mommy is hurt, can you do anything?"

Artoo let out a mournful whistle. He did not have the programming to help biological life forms medically.

"Where is my Daddy?" Ben whispered, shivering violently.

Artoo promptly retrieved a blanket for his little friend, using his pincer arm to drape it as best he could over the child. Master Ben offered a grateful smile.

"Do you know where Daddy is?" Ben asked again as his eyes drooped shut.

Again Artoo bleeped a negative, and the boy began to sob softly. Artoo waited until the boy had fallen asleep before he went to the cockpit.

He plugged into his alcove and assessed the computer. The man who'd thrown him aside had programmed a jump Coruscant, one that was not meant to be interrupted. Artoo's first thought was to stop the ship anyway, but when he stopped to think of his passengers he knew they would need the best help they could get.

But Artoo could not land this ship on his own. Master Luke's X-wing was one thing; a large yacht was entirely different. Artoo dialed into the communication's array and organized a message to the Solo family, hoping that one of them would get it and be waiting to help.

All the droid could do now was wait… and hope that his Mistress Mara and little Master Ben would survive.

Artoo did not know what had become of Master Luke, but he recognized from the state of the man's wife and child that it wasn't good.

Artoo Detoo let out a long, mournful whistle for his beloved master.