Author's note: Dear AWESOME and FAITHFUL readers,thank you for waiting for the next chapter of this story (it only took me over a year, and it's not even all that great). I promise there will be much, much more to come. I WILL finish this story, even if it kills me (well, maybe not then). I'm also still working on The Shadows Suit Me, so don't give up on that one, either. I love you all.

Here you go:

Chapter the Next

Luke had felt Hanna leave her room with Max yesterday, and now it was morning.

And Hanna was still with him, in another part of the palace.

You're smarter than this, Hanna, thought Luke, not at her so she could hear, but to himself. Damn Solo hormones.

Luke, fully robed today, was not planning on staying much longer. But if Hanna started feeling things for that boy...that emotionally unstable, self-centered pawn...she might be loath to come along. He almost wanted to passive-aggressively dismiss it, with an "if she wants to ruin her life, she can go right ahead" sort of sentiment. But Hanna was his daughter more than not–and she was coming with him.

He felt Leia tug at his mind, and he acknowledged her. She was very happy about something, something....

What is it? he asked.

He was prevented from receiving the answer by the door opening. It was the man he had seen yesterday, this time wearing robes of orange and magenta. Luke rose and regarded him dryly. "Good morning."

The other, perhaps thrown by the fact that Luke had spoken first, hesitated–elegantly, somehow–before replying, "Good morning, General. I apologize for the dely with your breakfast. It will be in shortly."

Luke didn't answer.

Fishing uncomfortably for something else to say, the man said at last, "Mr. Winnik tells me that he sent Tirha to you yesterday. She's one of our best. I trust you enjoyed her?"

Luke, again, did not dignify him with a reply, but raised one eyebrow slightly.

The man whose name Luke did still not know cleared his throat slightly and motioned for Luke to sit. He did, cautiously, on one of the red leather couches before the fireplace, not taking his eyes from the man for an instant, to let him know he was on his guard.

The man sat on another couch, at a ninety-degree angle from Luke's, and said, smiling, "I don't believe I've properly introduced myself. I am Bates Fae. The president of LUX–Luxury Ultimate and Exclusive."

Luke didn't respond again, at first, except to note that it was a very bad acronym for several reasons, and it indicated some rather bad writing. He regarded Fae cooly. "I suspected as much. And I suppose you want me to help you attain more of this 'ultimate and exclusive' luxury with my abilities. Was that it?"

He smiled. "I suppose there's no hiding things from you, General." He laughed a moment, almost as if he expected Luke to join in. Luke himself was getting very tired of being here. "Of course we wouldn't dream of holding you here once you agree to our proposition. You and your student–do I correctly remember that the lady is your niece?–are free to go back to Coruscant and carry on with your lives. I only ask that you are at my disposal when necessary and I promise, General, that that will be very seldom and that we will make it very worth your while. Now," he stood and went to the fireplace, leaned on the mantle, "Of course there are some technicalities-I would call them 'legalities' but I won't, for obvious reasons–to go over, some paperwork to sign. But we can take care of that later, after we've all had our breakfast. If you have any demands, any conditions at that time, I'm sure we can work something ou–"

He was cut off by Luke rising and standing dangerously close to him, staring him down with a threat in his eye. "I have demands, Fae. I want you to let my niece and me go. Now."

Fae swallowed, paling. "General, I assure you, that your release will be unconditional once–"

"Once I meet your conditions. I'm warning you, Fae. I know you're aware of my reputation, otherwise you wouldn't have brought me here. But I'll have you know that I don't need my lightsaber to take you and whatever guards you have out there down. If I were you, I'd let me go. Peacefully, and now."

Though Fae looked terrified, he did not falter. "I believe you, Sir. I promise, we can work something out."

Luke stepped away, feeling he'd made his point, but he wasn't about to start a fight before he had a plan. "I want to see Hanna," he declared, sitting back on the couch. "Then we'll talk."

Fae regained his composure. "I...I'm sure I can arrange that, but she's in Mr. Winnik's custody. If it wasn't for he, we would have only brought you. He's taken a shining to the girl, I'm afraid." He straitened his cape and gave Luke a slight nod. He didn't return it.

Luke was again left alone.

That afternoon, Luke sat on his bed, deep in a trance, mentally exploring the computer and mechanics that controlled the impossible door. It opened, startling him out of his trance.

It was Tirha. Luke's throat tightened to see her. "Hi," he said carefully.

She smiled cautiously. Today she was slightly more, well, clothed, in lose burgundy silk pants and a cropped matching top that tied behind the neck. Her head was unadorned, her feet once again bare. Luke thought she looked beautiful, actually beautiful, not just enticing as she had yesterday. She carried the tray again, but set it down as soon as the door was shut behind her. She ran to Luke and sat casually beside him on the bed, her manor and aura almost giddy with excitement. "I did it," she informed at a whisper. "I did what you asked. I was so surprised with myself–because I never have this much courage. I got the floor plans." She scurried back to the tray and pulled a few thin printouts out from under the jars and bottles. She scurried back and jumped onto the bed, smiled at Luke proudly as she gave them to him.

He smiled into her eyes gratefully, surprised also. "Thank you." He paused, looked them over. "Tirha, I promise you, once I get out of here, I'm going to come back and buy your freedom."

She smiled, and Luke could feel that she did not believe him. "I mean it," he insisted.

She shook her head. "I know you do, but even if you did come back, they wouldn't let me go. They always say I'm 'one of their best.'"

He flushed slightly. "I believe it. But I'll do it. I mean it." He smiled sheepishly. "But every guest who takes a liking to you probably promises that too, right?"

She shook her head, her eyes sincere. "No. You're the first."

They smiled at one another. Luke licked his lips, wanting badly to kiss her, to feel her touch. He'd thought about her since they'd parted–every moment that he wasn't preoccupied with his situation, he marveled over her strength of spirit, wondered how she had become the way she was, thought, though he almost did not want to admit, about her perfect, pink body. Luke leaned in to kiss her. She returned it passionately, practiced.

After a short moment, though, he drew away. "No. Not like this." He rose, forcing his hormones away, willing himself to think with his head instead of his....

"Not like what?" asked Tirha, clearly disappointed.

"If we...make love...I want it to be just that. Making love. Not...fucking," he said the word hesitantly, never having said it before, "Not you serving me. Not me taking advantage of your services, not me thanking you for what you did for me. I want...."

She rose, smiling. "I know what you want. I know you like me. I like you, too. I want it, too."

Luke swallowed hard. She kissed him. He kissed her back, not hesitating this time.