Decided to try a more action-filled thing this time...
Chapter Three
"Milady,"
The old man's voice echoed in the small, almost empty chamber. The roof was high and domed, with four standing pillars even against the weight of the ceiling and the minimal furniture.
They balanced out, both different but relying on each other for strength.
Reha Maron hated it.
"Yes, Rakhon?" Her voice was low and deceivingly patient. The man stepped forwards and a dim light filtered onto the figure shrouded in shadow.
A tan skinned, rather small woman was seated in the throne, eyes shut lightly. Her face was light, youthful, and the very picture of feminity. Her dark, almost black hair was pulled into a high bun, a strand of wavy hair left next to her slightly oval face. She opened her eyes to show startlingly vivid purple irises, doe eyed and beautiful in a chilling, unusual way.
The only absence that tainted this impeccable picture of beauty was a woman's warmth behind the pupils.
"The representatives have just returned from the informal meetings, ma'am, and are waiting at the rendezvous moon." The frail elder stated softly. The woman got to her feet, brushing off her deep blue dress and pulling a black cloak over her head.
"Shall I send for the Malamute, milady?" The servant suggested. She strode past him, and the door slid open at her command.
"No need, Rakhon," she said shortly. "Get my personal ship ready to go."
"Yes ma'am."
The Darkest Truth was a small modified S-976 Amberian model, its line discontinued over a decade ago. This was Maron's first and only ship, obtained when she was only thirteen and was continually tinkered with until it was a misleadingly small weapon of death. The sleek five-nosed starfighter was barely large enough to hold Reha and her astromech droid, gleaming a dark navy blue and streamlined to the shape of a teardrop. Ten laser cannons were kept at the noses, two for each. There were four more in the back, controlled by the well-trained astromech, R8-L4. These cannons had an impossibly tiny energy tank of twelve generators, and made up for the inadequacy with extreme recoil levels on the verge of suicidal. Maron was an extremely skilled pilot and had a highly developed mind. She learned over the years to keep track of the energy levels and recoil times while still deftly taking out enemies.
The only downside was that it did not have much of a fuel tank, either, so it could not go long distances. That wasn't a problem, however, because she had her alternate starship, the Malamute, for long distance trips.
The Darkest waited in her private small hangar, droids and men scurrying about it. Her astromech put down the waxing sponge from his claw and rolled under the droid slot.
"Start up the engines, Areight," Maron instructed as she climbed into the tiny cockpit and pulled on black leather flight gloves. The droid twittered in confirmation and the ship started to vibrate.
"Set the coordinates for Coruscant," she ordered the droid, who beeped in confusion. "No, we aren't going to the rendezvous. Send a message about that to them, won't you?"
The small, dark ship melted into the blackness of space as they lifted out of the hangar.
"The cake was amazing."
Leia fumed silently, ignoring Han's entrance to their shared bedroom. She sat at her dresser, pulling out pins from her hair and keeping her face emotionless.
"Hey, don't be angry," he defended himself, sprawling comfortably into the bed. Leia glanced at his reflection in the mirror but said nothing. "You're the one who accepted it."
"You're the one that started yelling." Leia turned around abruptly, staring him down. Han smiled at her defiantly.
"Well, you started pushing first."
"Han!"
"Leia!"
He smirked at her quizzically and she nearly exploded in irritation. This hadn't happened for a while now, but familiar emotions from fights and banters past started to overwhelm her.
She turned back around again, tugging a brush savagely through her kinked hair. After the initial wave of anger, a strange case of nostalgia washed over her.
Apparently Han had felt the same.
"You know, I almost miss fighting with you like this," He sat up and scooted to the end of the bed. He waggled a few locks of her hair when she did not respond. "You aren't actually that furious, are you? I'm sorry, okay?" He got to his feet and leaned over, wrapping his arms around her from the back and resting his chin on her shoulder.
He tried his best smile and puppy eyes into the mirror and Leia couldn't resist returning a small one back mockingly.
"No, I don't miss it," she bluffed lightly, setting the brush down on the vanity top and turning around to face him. "You actually matured from a wampa to a Wookie since the past eight years. Congratulations."
Han kissed her on the cheek. "There's my girl."
She smiled.
"I'll be right back. Do you want water for the bedside?" she got to her feet, her chestnut hair falling around her like a curtain. He nodded and Leia slipped out of the room.
She was reaching for the cabinet with the cups when she stopped.
The hair on her neck rose and she whipped around.
Nothing.
Leia trembled, hands clutching the countertop behind her as a wave of cold terror washed though her.
"Han?"
The tone of her voice immediately alerted him that something was up and he rushed to the kitchen. He encountered her, standing with her face ghostly pale. Han followed her gaze but could not see anything wrong.
"What-"
The comm on the kitchen table buzzed and Leia suddenly dove for it, bashing the answer button.
"What happened Leia? Are you okay?" Luke's voice came over the comm.
"Yes, yes," she almost whispered into the mouthpiece. She slid down to a sitting position, hunched over in a position of agitation. Han watched her carefully, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She jolted in shock only to realize that it was him and leaned into him. "Nothing...it's just..."
"I could feel your fear as sharp as if it was my own." His voice, however distorted from the airwaves, obviously conveyed concern.
"I was in the kitchen when I suddenly felt like someone was behind me," she blurted. "Like someone was standing there, but Luke there was no one!"
Han had only twice seen her this upset; after Alderaan and after Luke's revelation of her father. He slid down to her height and pulled her close. She did not object and clutched Han's arm until her fingernails dug into his skin. He listened intently.
"Do you think it was through the Force?" Luke said gently. Leia shivered.
"No...no, maybe. Maybe I was sensing someone watching..."
There was an uneasy silence on the other side of the comm.
"Be vigilant," he spoke after a moment. "Keep your blasters and comm at your bedside. If you feel it again, comm me immediately and I'm coming over. If someone really is there..." he trailed off.
"I'll protect you, princess," Han murmured, and Leia pressed her cheek to his chest, relishing in his comforting warmth. He leaned closer to the comm. "I'm here, Luke, you don't have to worry about that." he said a bit louder, and there was a small, troubled laugh.
"Keep good care of my sister, you hear?" he joked futilely.
"Are you doubting me and my blaster?"
Leia managed a weak smile and pulled the comm back to her own ear. "Thanks, Luke." she said, her voice a bit stronger than before.
"No problem, Leia."
The comm clicked into silence and Han helped her to her feet.
Her eyes traversed the room warily and Han did so too before gently ushering her off to the bedroom. She got deep under the covers, pulling it up to her ears like she used to do as an anxious child. Han returned with two glasses of water and placed them on each side of the bed. He tucked his trusty blaster under the pillow and clicked the lamp off.
Leia immediately scooted over to him and found his hands in the dark, placing her head on his chest. He put his arms around her securely and she sighed a small muffled sigh into his chest.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Goodnight."
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