Author's Note: Okay, the only reason that I'm not gone is because United Airlines is being a bitch. 'Nuff said. Anyhow, I'm hoping to finish this today, and I'll post the chapters periodically (hopfully) throughout my trip, when I get the chance. But I want more reviews...!

Dovasary: xDD I was just kidding with you, I hope you know that. And sorry about the scrambler; its not a computer, I just sort of... made it up... And, yeah, I liked that line. I was planning on putting that in there somewhere, and I found the perfect place there. Diablo II is a frankly awesome computer game made by Blizzard Entertainment. But I'm pissed off at it, because it bugged on me after two hours of playing with no save. x.x Yeah, I've read one - Hatchet. I liked it.
yellow-lily: Lol, that's fine, but here's another.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Now, little girl, read what's on the screen as soon as Master's done. Got it?" snarls the same dirty man. All I do is swallow and nod, a TL-44 pressed into my back by the 'guard' behind me. I could feel every little shift the guy makes, because it sends pain up my spine again.

Damn people never heard of bacta, seemingly.

As they set up the comm call, I tok the opportunity to survey my surroundings. There are a ton of guards, which are out of view, in case I try to escape. Yeah. An unarmed fifteen-year old girl with a spinal injury is a big threat. There's that gross man in the nice uniform, a couple of technicians, and my gaze passes over a tall, sturdy man (who I assume to be 'Master', or Amo Mot'n) and to the man on his right.

Boy, rather.

And now I can't breathe, and the already tight knot in my stomach gives a painful jolt.

Oh crap.

I went through all this trouble because I killed someone for the first time, and the moron isn't even dead.

From the looks of it, he's the slave trader's son.

And from the look he's giving me, he knows exactly who the cause of his injuries was.

Those brilliant, Luke-like eyes were narrowed into tiny slits, his nose scrunched up just the right amount and his mouth is just so perfectly tight that I swear that his glare must have been practiced.

Unable to muster the strength (or courage, not easily found in this situation) to return a scowl, I look away and at the viewing screen, where there's some flickering and then a clear image.

It's my mother.

And I'm pretty sure she's practiced that glare as well.

Luckily (I guess), Amo Mot'n steps in front of me, and his smile is so fake that I don't even need to use the Force to sense his greed.

"Your Highness, Princess Leia Organa-Skywalker." he said politely, with a little bow, dragging his abominable son down to do the same.

What about Carr? Did he forget that she had a husband?

I wait for my mother to correct him, but she doesn't.

"Mr. Amo Mot'n. I'm glad to have recieved your call. I believe that you have found my daughter, is that so?" My mother inquires, perfetly diplomatic. Well, of course he has, she just saw me right here.

"It's so, Your Highness. She's right here." he steps aside to allow my mother to see me. A flashing catches my eye, and I realize it's coming from the screen I'm suppposed to be reading off of. In big, red letters, it says SMILE.

The blaster tightens against my back, and my cringe quickly turns into a gracious smile. Who says I can't lie?

"Hi mom."

"Syrmé - " she starts. Gods, she's angry. But, again, luckily (I guess), Mot'n interrupts her.

"Your Highness, if you'd excuse me, there are a few things that I should inform you before you start to talk with your daughter. First off, it's not her fault in any way, concerning her dissapearance. We found her on Correlia, and a man was with her. We believe him to be her kidnapper, because he had taken her lightsaber, and there was a small, unnoticable blaster pressed up against her back."

Yeah, just like the large one trained on me right now?

"As you may know, I am the Cheif of the Law Enforcement of Correlia, so we immediatley apprehended him and took protective costudy of your daughter, Syrmé Carr. As you see." he smiles again.

My mother nods. Her anger is a bit died down, although its hard to tell, because her face is so straight and calm.

"And who is this man, Mr. Mot'n?"

"Tyl Olos is his name, according to the records. ... I must admit, not much is known of him, except the necessary information: height, eye color, weight, etcetera. I assure you that my men are doing a lengthy background check to try to dig up any more information on him." And yet another smile.

"I thank you. Now, for the arrangements to bring my daughter back home..."

The screen was flashing again. My eyes dart to it.

"Wait. Mom." I said, haltingly, staring at the screen.

"Yes?" she looks at me seriously.

"I would just like to say that I am very sorry about the sadness and trouble I must have caused you and our family. I hope you can fogive me." I stare at the screen, and I feel a frown cross my features. "Forgive me." I correct. Idiots forgot how to spell 'forgive'.

My mom ever so slightly perks an arched eyebrow. I can't blame her. I don't talk like this, but, hey, it's on the screen...

"Mr. Amo Mot'n has been very gracious torwards me when he found me on Correlia. He gave me plenty of food and rest and medicine and a large five-star hotel suite on his yacht." Is this necessary? "I pray that you..." I blink. "Reward him well." I shake my head lightly, confused.

By now my mom's eyebrow is reaching her hairline, but she quickly lowers it. "I shall." she says, carefully, looking at me pointedly. "And no need to be forgiven, Syrmé... dearest." A hint of a smirk. "This most definitely is not your fault."

I restrain a snort at her subtle mocking of my halted, awkard speech. She knows something is up, now. Die, you slave-drivers.

"Now, Mr. Mot'n, for the transfer arrangements..."

"Ah, one moment, Your Highness. I would like to propose some negotiations..."

"Negotiations?" My mother almost snaps at him. "For the transfer of my daughter to my home?"

"Well, yes, I mean, even Ms. Carr says I should be rewarded."

My mother's eyes glance over at me, and I give her a look that I hope plainly says 'just go with it'.

"Go on..."

"Well see, ah, Your Highness. I am in a very delicate position here. You see, I have some... special cargo, and I would very much like it if you loosen the laws when it concerns me - or immunization, if you will."

"What laws?" My mother's voice had lost all politeness, and it came cutting with a cold, hard edge.

"The slave laws."

I hear a few sounds of disbelief coming from mom's end, out of view, which made me certain that Luke and Mara were watching.

"I hope for your sake that you are joking, Mot'n." My moms says warningly after a pause.

"Ah, no."

"Well, unfortunatley for you, even if that was in my control I wouldn't even think about accepting it. Now, you will meet me at Coruscant - the exact coordinates will be transferred - where my daughter will be handed over to me, and if it happens peacefully I will help lessen your sentence for the transferring and owning of slaves. How about those negotiations, Mr. Mot'n?" Mom asks smoothly.

Okay, I pride her on her morals and wit, but those negotiations really don't put me in a good position.

"I'm afraid I'll have to refuse, Your Majesty." Amo snarls at her.

"Then I'm sorry."

And the screen goes blank.

Dammit.