Chapter 5
When Frissa awoke, the luxurious room had disappeared. Instead, she was lying on a small, uncomfortable bunk, in a small metal gray room. It looked like a prison. She rubbed her eyes, still a little unaccustomed to the light, and looked around. And than she screamed.
A huge man, perhaps over two meters tall was sitting on a chair next to her bunk. He was clad in pitch black, but the gold chain that secured his black cloak, and the red lights on the panel on his chest and his belt twinkled in the half dim light of the cell. The most interesting thing on him, however, was his mask, a black mask that covered his entire face and blended in with the black helmet he wore.
It was frightening, at first, and had made Frissa jump up and scream, but on second thought, she decided it had some sort of strange charm. Maybe because the eye spaces were so large, she didn't think it revolting or eerie, as many did. She thought it was closer to scary blended with interesting. The man, she decided it was not a droid or an alien, was softly breathing, and she could hear as he took each breath in, and then released it.
"There must be something wrong with his lungs" she decided, and felt suddenly sorry. 'That's probably why he has to wear the breath mask"
"I am sorry if I startled you, your royal highness" The man said.
Frissa opened her eyes wide in amazement. The voice was beautiful, deep, rich, harmonious, like a melody. It reminded her of the thundering of the wind over the fields of her home planet, or of massive waves washing on a beach. She decided she liked him.
"Sure you did, sitting there like that!" She said, sitting up, still a little woozy from the stun. "I feel so dizzy!" She said, feeling the room sway. The voice answered back in the same melody
"I am sorry for our method, your highness. My men had to make sure you cooperated on your way over." His answer meant nothing to Frissa, but she enjoyed the voice.
"My, that is nice." She smiled at him. That caught Vader of guard, and he drew back a bit, not understanding her answer.
"Excuse me" He said after a while, noticing she was not going to explain her remark, and quite stunned by it. He had expected a short, probably angry conversation with an uncooperative princess, as he explained briefly his designs, and nothing more. This was not planned. The girl smiled again, now wider.
"Oh, I am sorry! You must get that a lot, it probably annoys you." She said.
This didn't clear matters up for Vader, and it stunned him completely. His victim was not reacting as it should. There was no fear, after the initial surprise, and the answers were strange.
"What?" he said, before he could think of it.
"Your voice" She turned to him, putting her legs up on the bunk, making herself comfortable next to the wall, and close to him.
Vader turned his head slightly to the side in bewilderment, and she noticed that, so she explained
"Your voice, why, honey! It is so beautiful! My God, why, it's the most melodious sound I have ever heard.' She drew closer to him, and he backed off a little, now completely shocked
"I hope I didn't offend you" she said, noticing that too. Vader saw that she really meant this last remark, and he was about to say something, but she continued on.
"You know, you must probably hear that all the time, or something. But, I swear, it is beautiful!"
"Well, thank you, your highness" Vader retorted to that, now more composed "You are very kind. I am afraid we are not so"
He was about to continue with this menace, but she cut him of.
"What happened to you?" she said,
"What?" Vader said again, now louder, and even more startled.
"I mean, what happened? Are you all right?'
"I do not understand the purpose of this" he said, now leaning as far back into the chair as he could, fuming with anger.
This disconcerted him a lot. What was she asking? He started to think that maybe she was crazy, or the stun had some odd side effects.
"No, I mean what's wrong with you. The mask, and the lights, and the armor. How did you hurt yourself, baby? And what's with your breathing, my love?"
Vader decided to kill her right then and there.
He reached for his lightsaber in a quick, determined, silent move. Than she said something else
"It is like if it hurts you to take each breath. My, what happened? When you breathe, I feel your pain. What is wrong with you? Can you make it stop? Can't something be done? I can't believe you live in that pain all the time!?'
She put her hand gently on his chest plate and stroked it. Suddenly she felt the pain in his dilacerated lungs, and it frightened her because it was horrible to see, and it made her feel sorry for him, and wish that his pain passed. Sometimes she saw things that were within people, that was why she was a good sales girl, but she never felt this level of connection with anyone.
Vader read all this in her thoughts, and he put the lightsabre down.
He decided he didn't want to continue this conversation any more. It was too strange. This was too weird. He hated to think of his limitations, and the way they had come to be. In the ten years that he had had to live with the breath mask and life support system, no one, and that meant no one dared mention his wounds, at least not in his presence.
This direct pondering into what he considered his weakest spot disconcerted him terribly. Her question had been sincere, there was no hurt meant by it, he sensed. On the contrary, she seemed to feel some sort of sympathy about it, and this was probably the worst part.
After years of dealing with some of the toughest people in the galaxy, bounty hunters, pirates, mobsters, and, the worst, imperial moffs, Darth Vader was used to people being evil, being perverted, being scheming, lying, deceiving, cunning, untruthful, dangerous. His environment was of the worst, and he lived accordingly.
He had learned that trusting anyone was a bad idea, that those you love the most hurt you the most, and that there was only one way to follow, and it was not the pink, star-sprinkled one. Sympathy and warmth were feelings he had almost forgotten.
And in the small gray prison cell, they were too odd for him to comprehend them. He felt strange. He hated when he was not in charge of the situation. Her question had gone too deep and too suddenly, and he chose to avoid them. It was unexpected, and frightening, and he felt exposed and ashamed of his weakness.
"You are prisoner of the Empire. You are to remain in our custody until further." He said, and stepped out of the cell, the door slamming by itself after him.
When Frissa awoke, the luxurious room had disappeared. Instead, she was lying on a small, uncomfortable bunk, in a small metal gray room. It looked like a prison. She rubbed her eyes, still a little unaccustomed to the light, and looked around. And than she screamed.
A huge man, perhaps over two meters tall was sitting on a chair next to her bunk. He was clad in pitch black, but the gold chain that secured his black cloak, and the red lights on the panel on his chest and his belt twinkled in the half dim light of the cell. The most interesting thing on him, however, was his mask, a black mask that covered his entire face and blended in with the black helmet he wore.
It was frightening, at first, and had made Frissa jump up and scream, but on second thought, she decided it had some sort of strange charm. Maybe because the eye spaces were so large, she didn't think it revolting or eerie, as many did. She thought it was closer to scary blended with interesting. The man, she decided it was not a droid or an alien, was softly breathing, and she could hear as he took each breath in, and then released it.
"There must be something wrong with his lungs" she decided, and felt suddenly sorry. 'That's probably why he has to wear the breath mask"
"I am sorry if I startled you, your royal highness" The man said.
Frissa opened her eyes wide in amazement. The voice was beautiful, deep, rich, harmonious, like a melody. It reminded her of the thundering of the wind over the fields of her home planet, or of massive waves washing on a beach. She decided she liked him.
"Sure you did, sitting there like that!" She said, sitting up, still a little woozy from the stun. "I feel so dizzy!" She said, feeling the room sway. The voice answered back in the same melody
"I am sorry for our method, your highness. My men had to make sure you cooperated on your way over." His answer meant nothing to Frissa, but she enjoyed the voice.
"My, that is nice." She smiled at him. That caught Vader of guard, and he drew back a bit, not understanding her answer.
"Excuse me" He said after a while, noticing she was not going to explain her remark, and quite stunned by it. He had expected a short, probably angry conversation with an uncooperative princess, as he explained briefly his designs, and nothing more. This was not planned. The girl smiled again, now wider.
"Oh, I am sorry! You must get that a lot, it probably annoys you." She said.
This didn't clear matters up for Vader, and it stunned him completely. His victim was not reacting as it should. There was no fear, after the initial surprise, and the answers were strange.
"What?" he said, before he could think of it.
"Your voice" She turned to him, putting her legs up on the bunk, making herself comfortable next to the wall, and close to him.
Vader turned his head slightly to the side in bewilderment, and she noticed that, so she explained
"Your voice, why, honey! It is so beautiful! My God, why, it's the most melodious sound I have ever heard.' She drew closer to him, and he backed off a little, now completely shocked
"I hope I didn't offend you" she said, noticing that too. Vader saw that she really meant this last remark, and he was about to say something, but she continued on.
"You know, you must probably hear that all the time, or something. But, I swear, it is beautiful!"
"Well, thank you, your highness" Vader retorted to that, now more composed "You are very kind. I am afraid we are not so"
He was about to continue with this menace, but she cut him of.
"What happened to you?" she said,
"What?" Vader said again, now louder, and even more startled.
"I mean, what happened? Are you all right?'
"I do not understand the purpose of this" he said, now leaning as far back into the chair as he could, fuming with anger.
This disconcerted him a lot. What was she asking? He started to think that maybe she was crazy, or the stun had some odd side effects.
"No, I mean what's wrong with you. The mask, and the lights, and the armor. How did you hurt yourself, baby? And what's with your breathing, my love?"
Vader decided to kill her right then and there.
He reached for his lightsaber in a quick, determined, silent move. Than she said something else
"It is like if it hurts you to take each breath. My, what happened? When you breathe, I feel your pain. What is wrong with you? Can you make it stop? Can't something be done? I can't believe you live in that pain all the time!?'
She put her hand gently on his chest plate and stroked it. Suddenly she felt the pain in his dilacerated lungs, and it frightened her because it was horrible to see, and it made her feel sorry for him, and wish that his pain passed. Sometimes she saw things that were within people, that was why she was a good sales girl, but she never felt this level of connection with anyone.
Vader read all this in her thoughts, and he put the lightsabre down.
He decided he didn't want to continue this conversation any more. It was too strange. This was too weird. He hated to think of his limitations, and the way they had come to be. In the ten years that he had had to live with the breath mask and life support system, no one, and that meant no one dared mention his wounds, at least not in his presence.
This direct pondering into what he considered his weakest spot disconcerted him terribly. Her question had been sincere, there was no hurt meant by it, he sensed. On the contrary, she seemed to feel some sort of sympathy about it, and this was probably the worst part.
After years of dealing with some of the toughest people in the galaxy, bounty hunters, pirates, mobsters, and, the worst, imperial moffs, Darth Vader was used to people being evil, being perverted, being scheming, lying, deceiving, cunning, untruthful, dangerous. His environment was of the worst, and he lived accordingly.
He had learned that trusting anyone was a bad idea, that those you love the most hurt you the most, and that there was only one way to follow, and it was not the pink, star-sprinkled one. Sympathy and warmth were feelings he had almost forgotten.
And in the small gray prison cell, they were too odd for him to comprehend them. He felt strange. He hated when he was not in charge of the situation. Her question had gone too deep and too suddenly, and he chose to avoid them. It was unexpected, and frightening, and he felt exposed and ashamed of his weakness.
"You are prisoner of the Empire. You are to remain in our custody until further." He said, and stepped out of the cell, the door slamming by itself after him.