A/N: An extra special long chapter as a gift to everyone who has asked for it. Thank you again for all the reviews and the private messages. And the suggestions! I'm really happy that people are into this story enough to suggest scenes and characters. I hope you enjoy. :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not sue.

I was seriously going to have to have a talk with the upstairs neighbors. The pounding baseline from the music at that party they were obviously throwing (without inviting me and the roomie, the nerve of some people, I tell you!) was enough to give me a splitting headache. It was so loud, in fact, that my head was starting to throb in tune with it. Feeling more like I had someone banging on to top of my skull with a hammer. But it was the irritating little fuck that was renovating the inside of my skull in tune with that baseline that was the most annoying part.

In other words, their inconsiderate party was giving me a migraine.

I mean, granted, our upstairs neighbors were in their middle eighties and were Vietnamese. Come to think of it, I was pretty sure they didn't speak a word of English, either, so that was going to make my shouting match a little more difficult than I was planning. It did strike me as a little odd that they would suddenly develop a taste for hard core underground rap music, too. But then again, I knew a sweet little old woman in her seventies named Ruth that sold crack out of the back of her granddaughter's stroller on the subway. She said she was doing it to build a college fund for her grandchildren—all sixteen of them—so they wouldn't have to resort to this kind of thing to make a living.

That was sweet, motherly, Ruth for you. She'd bake you the most delicious brownies, too. But just make sure to specify what kind of "Special" ingredient you wanted in them, first. Believing that she was adding a touch of "love" to the mix like you'd expect of adorable little old grandmothers would prove to be one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Trust me. The last time my roommate and I forgot to do that, we woke up two days later on our bathroom floor with matching dolphin tattoos.

You don't want to have to avoid drug tests for the next six weeks because you forgot to ask what was so special about the ingredients. You have no idea how hard it is—and how expensive it is—to purchase a clean urine sample from some freakshow stranger in a back alley. Just, no. Stop while you're ahead.

"She's awake," some chick was saying.

"Good," someone else replied, that voice smoothly modulated and reminded me vaguely of blue dragons. Why, I had no idea. "I was beginning to wonder if you had put her too far under in the healing trance."

"It was a possibility," the woman said again, a hint of a frown in her voice. "She was badly anemic and dehydrated. The stun bolt could have killed her. You may want to suggest that starving a prisoner is not necessary the best method of breaking down their defenses."

Stun bolt? Prisoners? Were there people in my house? Were they playing D&D? Man, I was going to be pissed if I got stuck playing the cleric again. I always got stuck playing the cleric.

I frowned. Okay, more like groaned, and reached for my temples. What the hell had I drunk last night at the bar? The only thing that had hurt this much was the time I had gone to Mexico for part of my anthropology internship. We'd found the good real tequila there. Stuff so strong it made the worm scream and explode the moment it touched the liquid. And given that we were in the middle of nowhere on a beach, a shot of it became how much you could get into your mouth at one time.

It didn't take too long for us to get completely bat-shit wasted. Frankly, I was surprised none of us woke up with brain damage the next day. Though given my nightmares about Star Wars lately, I was beginning to rethink that. Probably fried quite a few chunks of brain matter that night on the beach. Which would explain oh so much about my life, frankly.

"Mexico?" a third voice echoed, just as smooth as the blue-dragon but different. "Tequila? Are these things common to Abregado-Rae?"

"No," the dragon answered, sounding slightly put out. "I believe she lied about that, too. A pity."

Abregado where—

Oh. Shit.

I wasn't going to open my eyes. I didn't want to be here anymore. I didn't want to realize that the 'pounding baseline' I was hearing was nothing more than my pulse in my head courtesy of Jackhole and his stun-bolt-happy trigger finger.

No. Just no. No. Nope. Nada. Never. Nien. Non. iie. That last bit was Japanese, in case you were wondering. All those years of watching Anime paid off finally!

"No, no, no, no, no…" I whined shrilly, curling up on myself. "Why are you here? Can't you just go back to the Unknown Regions and play hide-and-go-fuck-yourself with Notso Easy or whomever? Just leave me alone."

"And there she is," Thrass muttered, dark amusement thick in his tone. "Apparently she did not learn from the last time we spoke with her. Something must be done about that mouth of hers."

"Something will," Thrawn replied, and I heard the rustle of fabric as he got up (apparently he was sitting? Where the freak were we now? Some posh living room?) and crossed the room to me. "You might as well sit up and open your eyes, Miss Vasquez. We are very much aware of the fact that you are fully conscious."

"No," I pouted, curling up onto the soft surface I was laying on. From the feel of it, it appeared to be a couch of some kind. Not that it mattered. I was content to lay there until the station blew up. It wasn't like I had a way off of it anymore. "Not talking to you anymore. Go screw."

"Is that how you speak to your heroes where you are from?"

He sounded amused. Figures I'd let him know that one little thing and he'd use it against me. Typical! "No, just heroes that take a header off their platforms and swan dive willingly into the depths of hell."

He chuckled. Or was that Thrass that chuckled? Probably Thrass, knowing his personality. But it was hard to tell one brother from the other with my eyes closed. Mostly.

"Please do sit up, Miss Vasquez. This is highly irregular."

"Piss off."

He sighed. Well, it was more like an intake of air and then an exhalation of air. Like he was trying to regain his calm or something. If I wasn't certain we were all going to die any minute now, I would have been horrified at saying something like that to Thrawn. Fallen hero or not, the man was still hella scary. And he could make me sit up if I didn't want to. Could probably make me sing the entirety of The Phantom of the Opera if it so tickled him to do so.

But you know what? He wasn't the only one barely hanging onto his composure. I was going to die here, too, and it was all because his bro and sis-in-law had decided it was more fun to ride the exploding crazy-train into the next life with me along for the heck of it. So yeah, I earned my right to be furious. And for once, he was going to deal with it.

"Don't you dare get pissy with me," I snapped, sitting upright. The world lurched a bit when I did that, and I was very glad of the solid cushion at my back. Righteous indignant rage lost some of its punch if you were too dizzy to stare indignantly at your target. "You don't get the right to be mad here. I do. And don't raise an eyebrow at me, either. I'm tired of trying to interpret Chiss-Dragon-Code. Just speak plainly, man. How freaking hard is that?"

He opened his mouth, probably to ask what in the Empire 'dragon code' was. I raised a hand to stop him.

"But hold on there a minute, bright eyes. I'm not done yet. You'll get your turn in a minute. You all realize that we're going to die, right? That this place is going to go up in a massive explosion to make the Fourth of July demonstration in Times Square look like someone poured flat soda on day-old pop rocks. And since you and you—" I jabbed a finger in the happy couple's direction—"stopped me from leaving on the Falcon, I get to join you in being blown to bits. So yeah, I'm a little pissed off about that. Not to mention you've just stepped in it with Vader, hard core. Tall, Dark, and Asthmatic gave me orders—"

I kept on talking. But suddenly I couldn't hear myself. It was like someone had pushed a big giant mute-Mary button.

"Thank you," Thrawn said, nodding in Lorana's direction.

"She was getting a little tiresome with her prattling," the most hated woman in the universe replied lazily. "Did you get enough to go on?"

"For the most part," he replied, and pinned me with those eyes. Eyes that normally made me want to scream in terror. Or, you know, scream in happy-happy-joy-joy-time if Hater's fake memories had anything to say about it.

I winced at that. And covered my eyes before the All Thrawn Male Review could start playing behind them. "Cold showers. Cold showers. Not thinking of him. Not thinking of him and yummy fun time. Not thinking…"

It didn't matter that they couldn't hear what I was saying. In fact, given what just played behind my peepers, that was probably a good thing. Unless Thrawn could read lips, I was—

"Yummy fun time?" the dragon replied. Lifting an eyebrow and making me want to leap up and yank it back into place.

Of course he could read lips! I shoved my face in my hands. Why couldn't he? It wasn't like my luck was that good that he couldn't. I went beat red. My hand rose to tell him via signal just what I thought of his question. You know, my favorite salute.

But he was ready for it. And in hindsight I shouldn't have done that with him standing close enough to touch me. His hand caught my wrist in what he was probably wanting to be an intimidating gesture. Instead, my breath caught and all the little naughty bits I'd chained down into my mental Pandora's Box about him burst their prison and ran willy-nilly down my Imagination Avenue. Oh, the things that Vader had put in there! I won't bore you with the details (not that they were boring, holy freaking crap so not boring!) but needless to say, I was breathing hard and staring at him like he was the last bit of oxygen left on this station.

"Now this is interesting," he said, and my eyes fluttered shut at the smooth velvet of his voice. Like the skin-to-skin contact activated tactile memories I hadn't known were there. "Not precisely the reaction we've had before, now is it, Miss Vasquez."

"Say it again," I mouthed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name. My real name. Say it again."

"Why?"

"Because I can't," I said silently before I realized it.

He still had a hold of my wrist, and he held it tightly as he took a seat on the sofa next to me. Which was a bad thing for me, because as much as my body want to be all over his, my brain wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Like half the galaxy away wasn't far enough. I tried to pull back, to slide across the sofa. His grip prevented that, and he started to pull me closer when he realized that near proximity to him was like dumping quarts of tequila down my throat. I was getting drunk off of him, basically.

"Very interesting, indeed. Care to explain your reaction, Miss Vasquez?"

I shook my head, whipping blond tangles about, not trusting myself to open my lips. I was too afraid they'd be fastened to his throat before I knew it. No, I wasn't going to tell him anything. Until he pulled me forward and I was practically in his lap, those eyes staring down into mine.

"Is this part of your hero worship?" he asked, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. His eyes ablaze with the knowledge that I was pretty much so in lust with him that I was one strained bit of self-control away from jumping him right there on the sofa. In front of his brother, no less! "What happened to the fear, Miss Vasquez? What happened to you in your time with Lord Vader?"

I shook my head again, eyes closing tight. "If you value anything, don't you touch me anymore."

Hey, I could hear my own voice again! It gave me back enough of my self-control to glance back towards Lorana. And then I gulped when I realized she was standing close enough to touch. And so was Thrass. Oh so not good. I didn't want to know what would happen if both of them touched me at once! In my panic, I jerked away from Thrass, which pretty much had me climbing up Thrawn's chest. His hands gripped my shoulders in an effort to keep me from using him as living ladder to get to the back of the sofa. But that plan backfired on the both of us.

Because he pulled me down at the same time I was pressing up. And, seriously, I couldn't be more honest if I had a whole stack of bibles in one hand and a burning bush in the other, our lips met by sheer accident. Yeah, I saw stars. Saw universes worth of stars. And fireworks. And I think I saw the inspiration for Dylan Thomas's poem entitled "Love in the Asylum. " Especially that one line where the narrator "suffered the first vision that set fire to the stars."

Yeah. That.

And so much more.

I jerked back, stunned. Horrified and delighted all at once. My body was alive with that kiss, and I wanted nothing more than to lean forward into it, to part my lips this time and really taste him. But my heart heart, you know, my emotional side, just wasn't into it. That part of me was busy calling me a hussy and worse, because there was a certain blue-eyed dilhole out there somewhere that I wanted more than I wanted the buffet of smooth-talking dragon before me.

My body wanted his so badly that I couldn't see straight. But I was falling hard for Praji, and in my heart there was just no comparison. No amount of mind-fuckery by Hater could change that. At least, I hoped not.

Thrawn had both eyebrows raised this time as we pulled apart, and the smirk that touched his lips was more than a little arrogant. "Very unexpected, Miss Vasquez, but not unwelcomed. Now are you ready to tell me why you can't say your own name?"

My tongue was once more plastered to the roof of my mouth. And the desire to kiss him over and over rose up in a black tide of pain. I suddenly felt like I would die if I didn't kiss him. If I didn't distract him from questions that I wasn't allowed to answer. I leaned in again, but he leaned away, the playful-amused look in his eyes fading. Especially when he saw the pained look in my mine.

"I see," he replied, lips compressing in a thin line. "Threnody, if you would be so kind as to assist?"

Her touch in my head was light, feather soft, a gentle breeze compared to the fist that had been Vader's last entry through my mental doorway. But it hurt all the same, rubbing against the raw, broken edges of memories. Like rubbing ice on an exposed nerve. She hissed between her teeth right before my eyes rolled up in my head. This time when Thrawn pulled me against his chest, there was no sexual attraction. No attempt to intimidate me. This time he was holding my arms down as I practically had a mini seizure in his lap.

"Stop! Stop!" I screeched, begged even. "Not again! No more, please! PLEASE!"

"Thrass?" Lorana questioned.

"You have my sincere apologies for this, Miss Vasquez," he answered softly, a touch of regret in his voice. "Press on. As much as she can take without permanent harm. We need to know what he is planning."

More pain. More thrashing. And his arms like durasteel holding me in place.

"I can heal this in part," Lorana said after a while, words sounding strained. "But he'll know I did it if he ever comes back to check on her."

"You mean Vader," Thrass supplied, the regret taking on a steel edge. "I know he did things to her mind, hers and Leia Organa. That was evident enough via their reactions during the … celebration ceremony. But to what extent?"

"You won't like the answer, my husband."

"When have I ever enjoyed anything that has to do with Lord Vader? Tell me."

She did, pulling it all out of me. Every last piece. Every last fake memory. Even the bits about Praji that weren't fake, up to and including my thoughts of Thrawn and Praji during that accidental kiss. But she wasn't able to access all my true knowledge about the Lucas-verse. Vader's mental blocks kept that sealed. What that meant, I really didn't want to know. Because either Vader knew everything I knew, or he'd partitioned that bit off for further research at a later date. Neither of which equaled a nice long life for me.

I don't know what I expected to happen when she was finished explaining all those lies. Maybe rage? Amusement? Being dumped from Thrawn's lap like a bad little puppy for liking Praji more than him?

I certainly didn't expect to come to my senses still in his arms, though seated comfortably at his side, my head on his shoulder. His arm around my shoulders and that hand holding onto my wrist. So he could control me, maybe? Like there was anything left energy-wise in me to control! I trembled as if they'd just pumped me full of Robi-whatever again. Only this time I couldn't meet their eyes. Any of them.

And I sorta sat there waiting for one of them to ring the bell and a WWE smackdown event to begin on the floor between Lorana and me. I mean, I'd lose my cool if I found out a woman had all sorts of sex memories about my husband. I'd jackknife powerbomb her face into the pavement until she had no face AND no desire to so much as even think in my man's direction ever again. Given that Lorana was a full Jedi—Sith or not made no difference—I expected it was going to be a very one-sided fight.

I hoped to high heaven that she cleaned my clock well and good and quickly. Because now my head hurt so badly I could hardly breathe.

She stepped into my blurry field of view, offering me a glass of what looked like water but smelled like candy. "You misjudge me, Miss V—Princess Aurora," she corrected. "I am quite secure in my feelings for my husband and his loyalty to me. I can hardly fault you for memories and emotions that weren't your intention or creation. Now drink this. It will help with the pain."

I took it in my right hand, trying very hard not to slosh it around. I was probably on Thrawn's shit list forever now, so aggravating him by spilling whatever this was across his uniform wasn't going to win me back any points.

"And no one in this room hates you, so please remove that notion from your thoughts," Lorana added.

"This is the point where I glare at you and tell you to get out of my head," I murmured, jumping slightly when Thrawn reached over with his free hand and held mine steady for me, bringing the cup to my lips so I could swallow without pulling an imitation of a two year old drinking without a sippy cup. "And then you say you aren't going to do that and I say some really snotty things about you in my head—"

"—like calling me Plain and Tall—"

"—and I get smacked around a lot until I either shut up or you explain what you're going to do to me next if I don't. I don't know if you got the memo, but I've had a pretty crappy couple of days. Can we just skip the middle man and get down to the brass tacks for a change?"

"And finally she gets it," Thrass put in, a somewhat bemused smile on his face. "Yes, let's put aside the juvenile antics and get to the heart of the matter. It seems the four of us are now central figures in some sort of plot belonging to Lord Vader. We," he indicated his brother, his wife, and himself. "Have been aware of an undercurrent of political unrest in the upper levels of the Empire for a while now. Something to do with Lord Vader and the leadership of the Imperial Navy, we believe. But now it appears to go deeper."

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked the floor. "I'm not connected with the Navy at all."

"Patience, Princess," Thrass quipped, turning to the computer at his elbow, typing something into it. "All will be revealed in due time."

The coffee table sprang to life, a holo display floating above it. Showing still-frame images of Thrass and I, of Thrawn and I, of even Lorana and I.

"What the fu—"

The glass was pressed to my lips again by Thrawn before I could complete the obscenity. I glared at him as I drank. First Leia's miss manners routine and now these guys, too?! Did no one cuss around here? Was it a law of the Lucas-verse that since he wanted all his movies PG-13 or lower that people here just couldn't tolerate profanity? Part of me wondered if they had a word-weakness like the Knights Who Say Ni, and if I found the right profane word, I could defeat them all.

Lorana stared at me with her eyebrows drawn down, mouthing the word "Ni" over and over again. I blushed, then rolled my eyes. "Later, sweetie," I muttered at her, and almost earned a mouth full of liquid again as Thrawn attempted to shut me up once more. The glittering warning in his eyes did more for that than the glass did.

"How?" I asked instead, focusing on the images. "Where?"

"The 'how' can be answered by ISB most likely. The quality of the fake images is near perfect, a calling card of their particular brand of assistance," Thrawn interjected. "The 'where' I'm assuming is where these images were found."

Thrass nodded. "I performed this search when Threnody uncovered our, shall we say, imagined pasts together. There are hundreds of images in the Imperial archives of a similar nature. To anyone that has even remote access to such things, there are photo and holographic evidence trails to back up what Lord Vader has put in your head. To be blunt, Princess, whether or not our affairs happened in reality, the galaxy believes them to be truth."

I was suddenly glad that whatever Lorana and Thrawn had force-fed me killed my headache, as I had a feeling another was on its way. "Is that why you keep calling me Princess when you know damn well I'm not one?"

"Prove to me that you aren't," Thrass challenged mildly.

"Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?"

His eyes flickered to the images still floating before us. "Usually. However I am learning that anything that has to do with you is far from usual. Besides, I have a mountain of evidence now that supports your claim to being an Alderaan noble. Including a birth certificate and official adoption papers from Bail Organa, himself."

He tapped another few keys and the images changed. Now there were hundreds of photographs of Leia and I in the Senate's gardens. Photos of the two of us on Alderaan as tweens. It went on and on through all levels of our lives until I wanted to throw up. Thankfully, Lorana crossed to her husband's side and turned off the projector before I, err, projected.

"Let me guess," I put in when I was certain I was no longer going to lose my candy-water. "With Alderaan's destruction, there are very few people left out there to dispute my claims. Especially with Leia out there to back up said claims?"

"Precisely," Thrawn replied. "Our next step is how we avoid the backlash once Lord Vader's traps are sprung."

I shifted again, and Thrawn let me lean forward to put my near empty glass on the table. But he didn't let me stand up. "Uh, your Admiral-ness, correct me if I'm wrong but you just said you're going to talk strategy about Hater's latest scheme. Considering Lor—Threnody—just confirmed Hater's got his hand so far up my ass I could double as a glove, wouldn't you want me out of the room before you started in on the ploty goodness? Because I still don't see how this involves me at all."

His lips twitched in a bit of a smile. "You may call me Thrawn if you wish, Princess, considering once we leave this room you and I will be playing the part of lovers. And this involves you through your new connection to Princess Leia. I believe Vader is making a power play for control of the entire Navy, and using Princess Leia and yourself as instruments to pull down the rebellion. With that kind of credit to his name, there will be no one to stand in his way."

That part caught me off guard, alright. The lovers part, I meant. The rest of that convoluted pile of nonsense he'd so carefully explained sounded so much like Vader and Thrawn that I could have sworn I was reading it from the latest canon novel. But I was so busying making my 'say what?' face at the thought of me and Thrawn strolling arm in arm down the street that I was pulled back into place against him before I knew it.

"So that's why you haven't called me Miss Vasquez in the past while," I sighed. "You aren't going to undo what Hater did to me. You're going to send me back into the rebellion, only to do your bidding instead of Hater's."

"Essentially correct but not entirely," he said honestly. "For the moment, your new memories need to stay in place. We need this for several reasons. The first being that Threnody is not strong enough yet to completely repair the harm done to you. The second being that Lord Vader—not Hater—would know instantly if such things were tampered with. We don't want to reveal too much of our plans to him just yet."

"Uh, flag on the play, loverboy. If we start in with the lovey-dovey stuff right away, he's gonna know that something is up. Considering he knows that we've never, uh, you know, 'played Parcheesi,' if you catch my drift."

"Parcheesi?" Thrass chuckled, shaking his head. "At least you are entertaining, Princess. You are going to make certain this adventure is never dull."

"Yeah, isn't that purpose of the comic relief in any story?" I shot back sarcastically.

Thrawn snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Focus, please. Yes, he will be aware that something has taken place. Just as he will soon learn that you did not escape with the others as he had planned. I want him to be cognizant of these things. In fact, he is going to learn through various sources that I captured you before your escape, and you bartered for your life."

"With sex?" I snorted. "Even I don't buy that load of dreck, gorgeous. You don't take lovers. That's a well-known fact."

Those eyebrows lifted yet again. "True. Though I am curious as to how a lowly Abregado-Rae citizen knows that. Relax, Princess, we do not have the time for a discussion regarding how you have lied to me repeatedly," he interjected, apparently because I sort of made a rather undignified yelp-squeak-fearish sound. "You owe me your life, by the way. I did warn you that you would if you lied to me."

"Which is part of the reason I'm here?"

"Partly, yes," he nodded. "And partly due to the fact that we have something in common now. Just like with the destruction of your homeworld."

"It's not my h…" I swallowed, hand reaching towards my mouth and the fact that my tongue curdled when I tried to deny my supposed birthplace.

"You may as well stop defying Lord Vader's implanted orders," Lorana said matter-of-factly. "Little slips like that will alert others to the fact that you are not who you claim to be. And we need Princess Aurora to be Princess Aurora for the time being."

"But why? Forgive me for being the dense one here, but why would Vader knowing we know what we know that he knows we know, at least in part, be of any help to you? Wait, I think I just confused myself. Let me try again. What would—"

"I followed that well enough, I believe," Thrawn cut in, a slightly amused smile on his lips again. "I want him to know these things because it will make him pause, make him wonder just how much more I could know, and what counter strategy I am employing. I want him cautious and curious. And the reasons for that are the parts that I can't share with you."

"Because of Vader's making me his personal oven-mitt?"

Lorana sat up suddenly and started coughing, sputtering out her own glass of the candy-water. I winced a bit. Apparently she was still in my brain, and apparently she caught the fleeting mental image of Vader in an apron and a chef hat, doing the Swedish Chef impersonation while pulling a cake from a 1950s style oven. And the mitts on his hands were shaped like me and Leia as he did so.

"Sorry," I mumbled at her, causing both Thrass and Thrawn to look at me with dual raised eyebrows. I kinda shrunk back against his shoulder at that look. "I can't help it. Vivid imagination. Everything comes with a mental image with me. You might want to take that into consideration if you want to stay in my brain space, L—Threnody."

She sent me a rather unfriendly look, though that was kinda spoiled by the amused grin that tried to plant itself on her lips. Oh, she was going to be rocking that little mental snapshot for a while. Using it to make herself smile every time Vader gave her crap about something. At least she got an eye full of that and not the crap I'd shoveled at Vader. Plans or not, I don't think Thrawn could protect me from her wrath if I stuck her with reruns of American Idol or Married with Children.

Too bad we were all going to die before these plans happened—

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed, nearly breaking my arm as I tried to leap to my feet but Thrawn refused to let go. "We've gotta go! Now! This place, this station, is gonna blow soon! I don't know how soon as I don't know how long I took a deck-nap thanks to Captain-Trigger-Happy over there, but we have go!"

"So you have mentioned before," Thrawn said, absolutely unconcerned apparently with our impending doom. "I do not believe—"

It was Lorana, bless that turncoat mind-lingering Jedi, that finally saw the truth in all my mental faffing about. "She isn't lying," she said, growing alarm on her face. "The rebels have located a weakness in this station. We do have to leave as soon as possible. This station will explode."

Thrass was on his feet in an instant, so was Thrawn, dragging me along. "Is it something we can combat or prevent?" Thrass asked.

Lorana didn't apologize this time. That breeze slipped into my head and I was trembling in Thrawn's arms before long. Before she pulled out and left me gasping. "No," she said at length. "Not now. There isn't time."

"Duh!" I mumbled angrily, trying to regain my footing, clutching to my supposed lover's uniform to stay upright. "Only been saying that since I arrived!"

"How long do we have?" Thrawn asked quietly. Ignoring me.

"Probably until this station reaches the Yavin system," Lorana replied. "We need to leave the Death Star the moment it drops out of hyperspace."

"That gives us a little time, then. Not much, but some," Thrawn replied, relaxing a bit. "Call for a security detail and have Princess Aurora taken to my shuttle. I want her transported to the Admonitor as soon as possible. Tell Senior Captain Parck to lock her in one of the empty luxury suites once on board.

"Wait," I tried, watching as Lorana and Thrass moved to opposite sides of the room, issuing their own orders into private comlinks. "There are two men here that need to be saved, too. Well, more than two men, but please, please hear me out. Have Commander Nadonnis Praji taken off the station, too. And Sergeant Nova Stihl. And Dr. Uli! They are good men. Don't let them die here, please. Oh, and I know you are fond of General Veers and his work, too. So tell him when the snow speeder is coming at his AT-AT to not just duck, to literally dive out of the head-shaped control thingy, otherwise he's going to lose his legs. And that isn't going to help his career."

His eyes lost that amused glitter, focusing on me in a way that reminded me just how dangerous he really was. "You and I are going to have a very long talk when we're both on the Admonitor. And you are going to tell me everything you know and how you know it. As to your requests, Commander Praji was removed from this station days ago. He was assigned to another ship under Lord Vader's personal control. Considering he was hand-selected for part of Lord Vader's personal staff officers, I believe it is safe to say that he no longer has any memories of you. Or do you think Lord Vader would leave such a loose end drifting about?"

I had no words for that. My heart dropping like a stone in my chest. Would Vader really do it? Would he remove me from Praji's memories? Yes, he would in a hot minute. If only to dangle the hope above my head that he would one day give Nadonnis back his memories if I behaved. He'd all but alluded to as much, tempting me with being able to have both Nadonnis and Thrawn. And, if I were to believe Thrawn, Nadonnis was out there sailing the stars, blissfully unaware that he was now an emotional hostage for Hater to use against me.

"How did you know all this?"

The eyes still retained their hard edge, but his lips took on that tight smile he was so fond of using. "Because I am not the type to leave loose ends drifting about, either. Now, smile, my Princess," Thrawn whispered, reaching up to brush away a tear I hadn't known I'd shed. "Your escort is here. And we are lovers. Act the part."

The doors opened to reveal the usual twin pack of jerkfaces, and instead of smiling, I threw my arms around his neck. A lover's wild embrace, or so I hoped it looked like. "You find Nadonnis. You have Lorana fix him. And I'll do whatever you say, loverboy," I whispered in his ear. "If not, then fire up your magic eight-ball and buy stock in Robitussin. 'Cus you'll have to fight me for every single thing you want me to do."

His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me in tightly, his mouth touching my ear. "We are only playing at lovers, Princess," he whispered, voice cold as ice. "You've been warned once before to never dictate to Thrass or myself. You would be wise to listen to that advice, or I'll make certain you do every single thing I want you to do for the rest of your life. Do not make enemies where you do not have to. Am I clear?"

Yeah, that was clear alright. And when we pulled back from each other, there was true passion in our eyes. Too bad it was near to loathing instead of love. Funny how the two things could look so similar. "I will see you soon," I whispered as I stepped towards the door. "Pray take care of yourself until then."

His smile was small, but warm, a contrast to his glittering eyes. "Count on it, my Princess."

The doors closed behind me, obscuring all three of my new frenemies from view.