Counterfeit Balance

Chapter 4:

He smiled down at the datapad, perhaps he could convince the Supreme Leader that the girl was, in fact, detrimental to his plan to destroy the Resistance. He would need to actually have a plan, however. And he would need to come up with it rather quickly. Time was as they say of the essence.

A glance over his shoulder told him the girl had finished her pastry and was emptying the last remnants of the wine into her glass. Perhaps she didn't realize the strength of this particular Chandrillan wine, or perhaps she didn't care. Either way, it was bound to be a long night for her. He sighed and returned to the table without a word, eyeing her as he finished his pastry and drained his wine glass.

"You really ought to pace yourself," he said quietly. "You are going to be sick, and I'm not exactly thrilled about the prospect of holding your hair back."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. Her flush had spread from her cheeks down to the bare skin of her collarbone. A lovely shade of crimson he couldn't help but notice.

"Holding my hair back?" She asked. He caught the almost slur of her intonation. She was most definitely drunk.

He frowned. "Yes, usually when you are drunk and sick and need to vomit, someone is responsible for holding your hair back. Otherwise, it can become quite messy."

She laughed for a moment giving him a smile that made his breath hitch.

"Do you have a lot of experience holding people's hair back?" She giggled.

"Well, I—suppose I have had some," he replied mildly amused by her interest.

She laughed again. "I can't imagine you all prim and proper letting a girl vomit even remotely near you." Did she think the notion that he could be a caring individual to be funny?

He wasn't sure he liked her drunk. And he definitely didn't like to be teased. And besides, it was ridiculously foolish of her to get herself drunk, especially when she was alone, with him. He had already tried to kiss her once without her permission. Hadn't she considered that? But then again, he supposed he wouldn't have thought twice about getting drunk if he thought it might be his last day alive.

She was still laughing at him, but then she let out a small groan. "My stomach hurts."

He blinked. Wonderful. This night was turning out to be wonderful.

"Perhaps you'd like to lie down?" He asked gesturing to the bed.

She huffed at him as she rose from her chair. "You better not try to have your way with me."

"Preying on drunk girls is definitely not my way," he replied icily.

It was then he remembered she already had a room she could lie down in and instead he had just offered her a place on his bed. Perhaps he needed to reconsider exactly what "his way" was.

She walked slowly to the bed and gingerly sat down on the edge cradling her stomach. The General rose as well and pulled out a small glass from his cabinetry. He needed another drink, and wine was definitely not going to make the cut. He pulled out a bottle of Corellian whisky and poured himself a portion into the glass.

Without a thought he tossed the drink down, swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp. He liked the way it burned all the way down into his belly. It cleared his head, emptying it of all those disastrous thoughts.

Swishing around the bottle in one hand he made a quick decision; he poured himself another shot.

The girl had laid down on her side, still cradling her stomach.

"Would you like some tea?" He asked suddenly, he'd nearly forgotten that he had some tea for nausea. He had even used it a few times for himself after a rough day of work had led to an even rougher night of drinking.

She shook her head, "I don't think I can stomach anything else."

"Well, it could help if you feel nauseated," he offered.

She groaned a bit and shook her head again.

"Would you like me to put something on? A holovid? I could—" he began.

"No, thank you," she said groaning again. "But I think I should just lie here for a minute. My head won't stop pounding."

He decided he would make her tea anyway, and he would mix it with a good portion of pain-relieving powder as well to help get rid of the headache. He filled the teapot quickly and set it on the small burn pad as he flicked it onto 'high.' Perhaps he ought to get her into her own room. He could give her a bucket. That was a terrible thought. He didn't want to toss her back in her room with only a bucket and some tea. It wasn't the most polite thing for him to do, but he really didn't want to play host to a drunk prisoner. Especially not one that he found so enthralling.

He remained in the kitchenette, leaning against the countertops. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and crossed his arms. It was better for both of them if he kept his distance. He had much better control over himself if she wasn't so close to him.

"Do tell," he said, "have you ever drank before? And by drank, I mean alcohol."

She let out a small wheeze and then a very quiet, "Once."

"Once? Once before?" He nearly growled.

"It was a long time ago," she replied wincing, "at the sun festival on Jakku."

"I don't suppose anyone has ever warned you not to imbibe?" He said, biting his lip.

She shook her head, just as the kettle began to whistle. He switched the burner off and prepared the tea, a small pouch of the loose leaf tea and then mixed it with the pain reliever.

He lifted the mug gingerly stirring the contents around with a spoon he had retrieved and then walked it over to where she laid.

"Sit up," he said, not unkindly.

She did as he asked, but as soon as she was upright, she made a face. He knew that expression.

"Get to the hygiene room," he said urgently. He set the steaming mug of tea down on his desk as she dashed into the room.

The unmistakable sound of retching came a moment later. He licked his lips. This was not at all how he imagined his day would go.

He made his way to the hygiene room to find her bending over the toilet, hands braced on either side of the bowl. She was heaving. It wasn't the most attractive sight. He gently reached over and brushed her hair back, away from her face, pulling it into a ponytail. She heaved again, this time all the contents of her stomach seemed to come up, red wine, bits of lettuce, buttery sauce covered lobster. It smelled foul, and he felt his throat tighten, bile rising. He gagged slightly as he looked away. He was not going to vomit now.

He held her hair back as she expelled the entire contents of her stomach in five or six more heaves. When she finally let out a loud breath and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, he knew she was finished. He flushed the toilet as quickly as he could, taking care not to look at the contents of the bowl.

"Just one moment," he said as he reluctantly let her hair go. He left the room and returned with a full glass of water. "Rinse your mouth with this," he said offering her the cup.

She took it shyly, her forehead damp with perspiration and her cheeks a dull pink. She took a sip and swished the water in her mouth, spitting it into the nearby sink.

"Thank you," she said feebly.

He gave her a nod. "How about that tea?"

She smiled weakly, but nodded at him and followed him out of the room. He sat her back down on the bed and brought her the tea. Thankfully it was now cool enough to where she could manage a sip.

He sat down in his desk chair. He needed something solid under him, to remind of where he was, of who he was.

"How's your head?" He asked, his own head beginning to sprout a mild ache.

"It's just a dull throbbing now," she replied as she took another sip of the tea.

"That's better," he said. "Sleep will definitely help. Though I don't like the idea of sending you to bed with an empty stomach."

There was a small quirk in the corner of her mouth as she said, "well I should probably eat something then. To settle my stomach."

He knew the feeling. He needed to settle his stomach as well, that tight knotting that had begun when he had first laid eyes on her was only growing stronger. The lights in his room had dimmed considerably in the past hour, creating an artificial daylight of sorts. Even in that dim lighting, he could make out the soft planes of her face, her lips, her throat.

With a shake of his head, he rose from his chair, "let me see what I have in my pantry."

She sat on the edge of his bed, sipping the tea thoughtfully. His eyes followed her hand as she raised the mug to her lips. How he envied that mug. Thankfully his tongue was still somewhat painful from where she had bitten him earlier. It served to remind him of his own stupidity and the fact that she was not his ally.

He shuffled through the pantry, boxes of expired things, he wasn't sure what. He lifted out a box of ration cubes. Those wouldn't do. He wasn't going to give her ration cubes. Likely she had lived off of ration cubes when she was a scavenger.

Finally, he came across a meal box of bread packets, there was only one packet left. He tore open the packet and then found a small bowl and poured the contents inside. He tossed the box into the small trash compactor and then filled the bowl with hot water from the kettle. It only took a few minutes for the bread to rise out of the mixture and then harden into a small loaf.

Once it had cooled enough, he cut the bread into small slices and put them on a plate. When he set them down beside her on the bed, she gave him a smile.

"Thank you," she said, picking up one of the pieces of bread and biting into it. She ate slowly, a small bite at a time.

"You're welcome," he replied.

He wasn't sure when the last time had been that he'd felt so domestic. It would have been at least four or five years ago at least. Back when he wasn't always alone. Though he did have Millicent, she'd kept him company for a number of years, but it wasn't the same as having someone to come home to. It wasn't likely he'd ever have that again anyway.

He decided he didn't want to sit in the hardback desk chair, he stood suddenly and moved back to the kitchen to grab the bottle of Corellian whisky, he unscrewed it again and took a long swig. Then he flung himself onto one of his plush reading couches and propped his feet up on the short end table. It was a pose he didn't usually take with others, especially not his . . . Enemies? He supposed, all things considered, that she was indeed his enemy.

Another swig of whisky burned its way down his throat as he leaned back and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't, not with the girl still sitting on his bed.

"I can go to my room if you like," she whispered, almost as if she could read his thoughts.

"No, no," he replied, "Please. I'm really not used to having company."

"I'm a prisoner," she countered.

"Yes you are," he said giving her a savage grin.

"And now you're drunk," she said, clearly unamused.

He sat up suddenly, "am I? I don't feel drunk." He paused to take another drink. "And anyway, it usually takes a lot more than this to get me drunk."

Turning in his seat he leaned forward, offering her the bottle of whisky. "Want a sip?"

She shook her head, "the thought of that makes me feel sick all over again."

"More for me then," he replied draining the bottle in one gulp. His head swam, he was beginning to feel a bit light headed.

She watched him as she finished eating the bread and drank down the last of the tea.

"You know," she started, "I used to eat these type of bread rations on Jakku all the time."

He set the empty bottle down on the floor and allowed Millicent to hop into his lap.

"I had hoped I wasn't giving you something to remind you of that desolate wasteland," he said, his hands idly petting Millicent as she curled up on his stomach.

She smiled at him again. She was definitely feeling more forgiving this evening.

"You know, not all of my memories of Jakku are bad," she replied.

"Do tell," he said. "I like a good story."

"Well, there was—" she seemed so eager to tell him, but then his datapad beeped loudly. Snoke must've received his message. The girl immediately closed her mouth.

His comm blinked as well. A transmission. He checked the datapad, it appeared that Snoke was sending him a holocall. Why did he always call? Couldn't he just this once send a message like anyone else would have? Millicent hopped off his lap suddenly, she never wanted to be in the room when Snoke called.

The General knew he couldn't answer the holocall with the girl in the room. He turned to her, "I have to take this."

Was that disappointment he saw in her face? He couldn't be sure. But she nodded and rose, and he showed her back into her room. As soon as the door was secure, he turned to the datapad and answered the holocall.

Snoke's unpleasant features came into view immediately.

"Supreme Leader," The General bowed.

"What took you so long?" Snoke growled.

"I uh—" The General wasn't prepared with an excuse.

Snoke smiled at him, a cruel twisting of his features. "Never mind. Kylo Ren has requested that the girl have an opportunity to train with the Knights of Ren tomorrow morning."

"Surely you don't believe that is a good idea," the General replied. Almost immediately he felt the constricting pressure around his windpipe. Crushing him. He wheezed, saw stars, his head was swimming again.

"Don't question me! I have decided to allow Kylo Ren to entertain the idea that I might let her live. I will allow her to train with him. The specialty binders must stay, however. It will be an excellent test of Kylo Ren's will." Snoke said, smiling. "You are to attend of course. I do not want her out of your sight."

He tried to say something, anything but all that he could manage was a pathetic gasp as he tried to breathe. The Supreme Leader did not loosen his grip. Everything had begun to narrow, he couldn't see. Another few seconds and he would pass out.

"Do you understand?" Snoke asked.

He tried to answer, but everything suddenly went black. He was pulled back to reality when his body hit the floor, slumping half onto his bed.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," he gasped out, rising on unsteady feet.

Snoke chuckled. "Then I will have Kylo Ren prove his loyalty by killing the girl."

"Supreme Leader," The General said through his dry, cracked throat. "Did you see my message? About the Resistance location?"

"I did," Snoke paused. "Once we rendezvous with you we will send the fleet to D'Qar quickly to resolve this little annoyance."

For a brief moment, the General thought he ought to suggest that the girl would be more valuable alive should the attack on D'Qar fail. But then again he didn't have the slightest desire to have his windpipe crushed again.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," he replied.

Snoke grinned, "Well well, this is a very interesting turn of events. Till tomorrow General."

The General nodded and let the holocall end, heaving out a tired wheeze. His head ached, and his throat throbbed, and his tongue was stinging from the recent swallow of whisky. He wanted another drink badly but knew it was probably not the best idea given the pounding in his head.

He walked shakily back to his kitchenette and poured himself a glass of water, downing it quickly and then pouring another. Tomorrow they would rendezvous with The Supremacy, and he would have to figure something out to keep the girl alive. He could take the chance and speak with Kylo Ren, but then again, he would rather not share any glory with him. He wanted the girl to know it had been him who had saved her. He wanted her to be grateful and to show him her thanks.

A glance at the time told him it was well into his sleep cycle. He stripped down to his black sleeping shorts and then stepped into the hygiene room to clean his teeth.

Once he was finished, he lifted his datapad and turned on the monitor in her room. He didn't like using the monitor to spy. They had been intended for other things, but now he might as well use them to see if she was asleep. She wasn't. She was sitting on the edge of the bed leaning forward, and it almost appeared that she was talking to someone.

A sudden spike of panic flooded through him. How could she be speaking to anyone? Had she grabbed a comm from his room? Dread wound its way through his stomach, and he darted to the door, punching in the code quickly and letting the door slid open to reveal her there. She looked up at him and gasped, apparently he had caught her in the middle of something.

But she was alone. There was no one there. Her expression of surprise almost instantly changed to anger.

"Were you spying on me?" She asked.

"Spying on you? Were you speaking to someone?" He accused. He had momentarily forgotten he was standing there in just sleep shorts and her studious gaze made his face burn.

"No," she replied. A blatant lie.

"Did you take a comm from my room?" He asked.

She shook her head.

"Stand up," he ordered. He had to be sure. His heart pounded as she rose. "Put your hands up and turn around."

She did as he asked, raising her hands slowly and turning her back to him. He gently patted her down, making sure not to linger too long on the curve of her hips or the inside of her thighs. When he was satisfied that she wasn't hiding a stolen comm, he stepped back and allowed her to turn around.

"Well?" She asked defiantly staring up at him. She was so close to him, he could almost feel the heat from her body. Her eyes felt like they were singeing his skin.

"I believe that you didn't take a comm," he admitted, "But you were speaking with someone. How?"

She didn't answer, just stared back up at him. There really wasn't much he could do to make her talk. Snoke wouldn't want her tortured. And he really wouldn't torture her anyway. Snoke wanted Kylo to believe the girl might become one of his Knights of Ren. The longer he stood there, looking down on her, the more he realized that her fiery nature reminded him of someone. He shook it away.

"I know you were speaking to someone. I can only assume to whom," he glared back down at her. "If you won't tell me there isn't much I can do. But I can let you know that I will be watching your every move on my monitor. So be careful."

Her eyes seemed to soften a bit at that, she hesitated.

"And," he continued, "Supreme Leader Snoke has approved for you to train with the Knights of Ren tomorrow. He may be testing you to see if you would be a good fit."

She didn't seem the least bit surprised by this news. That was confirmation enough for the General. She had been talking to Kylo Ren after all. How she had still managed to elude him, but he would figure it out sooner or later.

"I'm going to bed now." Was all she said by way of reply. The anger was gone from her tone, replaced by an iciness that nearly made the General shiver.

He suddenly remembered the datapad he had for her.

"Oh, there is one more thing."

He left the room quickly and returned with the datapad. He explained how to use it and showed her where she could access holovids and reading materials. She seemed genuinely surprised at this sudden gift, and he almost reveled in the feel of her appreciation. She stood so close to him, leaning in at his shoulder to see the datapad. Her breath was warm on his arm as she watched him detail the programs.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for him not to reach out and touch her. He ached to put a hand on the small of her back. But he didn't, he merely handed her the datapad and removed himself from the room as fast as he was able.

Once the door was closed between them, he let himself crumble into his bed. Had he imagined her eyes flicking from the datapad screen to his face and then down his torso to his stomach? Or had that been his overactive imagination? Was he filling in the gaps he wished he had seen? He couldn't be sure. But he was sure her eyes had rested on his lips for a brief moment and then dropped, taking in the sight of him.

He knew he wasn't as well muscled as he could have been, or even as he was back in his academy days, but he did train regularly, and he knew he was physically fit. He also prided himself on a well-groomed appearance.

His breath hitched a moment as he thought of his earlier dream. If he took her binders off if he freed her, what would she be willing to do? Would she thank him like he had imagined? Eager wet lips sliding up and down on his cock, soft hands slowly tenuously gripping his length and pumping him into ecstasy.

He glanced back down at his now hardened length, his hand sliding between his shorts and his skin and grasping himself tightly. He gasped out as he pumped once, twice, three times, each pull more pleasurable than the last. He imagined her warm mouth enveloping him, her hot wet tongue gliding up and down his length. But the thing that sent him desperately over the edge and into the beyond was the thought of her eyes on him the whole time.