10. Day 77 – Part II
The programmed fifteen minutes had passed. The so-called conversation between him and the Princess was broken and forced, but it didn't matter. It served his purpose.
The eyes of the Corellian captain kept going back and forth between him and Princess Leia in an ineffective attempt to grasp what was going on between them. Oh, yes, young Organa and he knew each other very well after the time they spent together on the Death Star. They didn't need many words to understand what the other was thinking. Not anymore.
The Dark Lord raised and strode out of the room. "Take them away," he ordered.
They have been taken along a corridor. Three stormtroopers around her, five around him, they have been deprived even of the comfort of holding hands. Princess Leia's group headed the march, and then came Han Solo's. Darth Vader and Calrissian closed the procession.
"Leia!"
The muffled scream made her stop and turn around, bumping into the stormtroopers behind her.
But she only saw the edge of a black cape disappearing through a hatch and then the white corridor was empty. Han was gone.
Gone.
The rack was a prior incarnation of Twelve Hells, only a less sophisticated one. The purpose was nevertheless the same: to inflict as much pain as possible on the subject. The man strapped to it closed his eyes when he was lowered to his torment.
Leia... five days... resist... The electricity through his brain disrupted his coherent thinking, but did not manage to eradicate her from his mind.
The stormtroopers took Princess Leia to a security room. The facility was elemental: a desk, a chair, a computer terminal, a communication device, a wall full of surveillance monitors. Everything was there: the landing pad where the Millenium Falcon rested, the mess hall, the suite. Her eyes rested melancholically on the image of the hunk of junk where she had lived the happiest days of her live.
He entered the room and the troopers retired. "Watch," Darth Vader ordered. His black-gloved fingers moved slightly and the screens changed, one by one. And every one of them showed the same image: the pain-contorted face of a Corellian smuggler.
The audio went on and his screams filled the room. She turned instinctively and covered her ears with her hands, in an unconscious and futile attempt to shield herself from his agony. Good, he thought, she's already betraying him. But she needs to learn.
An invisible fist smashed her face against the screens and another delivered a blow to her stomach. Retching and bleeding from her royal nose, the young Rebel fell to her knees.
"Watch," the Dark Lord repeated.
She obeyed.
I never told you, Han, and I'm so sorry now, was her only thought, we're going to die and I never told you that I love you... Goddess, please, help him!
Her anguished inner cry transmuted in little ripple through the Force. It was just a tiny echo in the Force, but the Sith next to her felt it and rejoiced.
Four hours later Leia Organa was dragged again along a passage. Lando Calrissian and his aid met them in their way. The Baron made the group stop and addressed the shaky Princess.
"Are you alright?"
She didn't answer. She only stared at him and if glares could kill, he suspected he would have dropped dead immediately. It was the second time in this awful day that someone had looked at him like that and he definitely didn't like it.
Damn, she was beautiful, even in her present disheveled state. The way she held her head upright and those eyes... No wonder the old pirate was head over heels for her. He had noticed it as soon as he saw them together. Han had always been a romantic after all, a natural born rescuer of damsels in distress. Only not this time.
"Follow me," he ordered the stormtroopers. They hesitated for a seconds but then complied. Leia didn't pay much attention to where were they going until the sunlight almost blinded her. They were in the suite where Han, Chewie and her had stayed earlier.
"Why are we here?" She asked in surprise.
"You don't want Han to see you like this, do you?" Baron Calrissian stated.
It was only then that she noticed that the pearly-gray cloak was stained in blood and the red suit was dirty and stank because of her stomach contents. "Alright," she agreed. Mechanically, she entered her former room and started to strip down the soiled clothes even before the hatch closed completely.
The gambler-turned-administrator waited outside. This deal was becoming worse and worse every minute and now he had to deliver the news to Solo. But if he played his cards right, maybe something could be salvaged.
They had tossed her indelicately into the cell. He didn't see it but he knew. And then he felt her cool hands through his hair and kisses on his forehead and it was like a blessing. Han Solo let her soothe him, and it was good.
The hatch opened again.
"Lando," she spoke.
He was resting again on the hard slab, the new bruises starting to show. Goddess, he looked so tired and sick. Her hand started to caress his scruffy hair again and she whispered in Han Solo's ear.
"I love you," the Princess said.
But exhaustion had claimed him and he was already asleep.