'What happened to flattery?'

He considered that for a minute. 'Nice cloak. That's the best I can do. What kind of training did you have in mind?'

'I want to do everything you can do.'

He shrugged, but she had the impression he was disappointed.

'Four basic starting positions.' He demonstrated. 'Fifteen combinations.' He moved through each one with the ease of long familiarity and she strove to repeat what he'd done.

'No, keep your balance forward.'

'No, elbows are lower.'

'Balance forward, or I'm going to do this again.' He made to kick the back of her knee, but she twisted away, pivoting into the next position.

'Better. Now faster.'

She had little concentration left for anything else as she mastered the steps, whirling the lightsaber round in a series of graceful arcs. Then a rock hit her on the arm and she broke off to grab at it with an exclamation. Five others followed in quick succession before she reacted quickly enough to block one.

'What are you doing?'

He had another twenty or so suspended in the air around him. 'Carry on with the drill, and use the Force to stop yourself getting hit.'

It sounded easy, but it took a long time before she was able to dance through the complex routine and maintain enough spatial awareness to repel the missiles hurtling at her from all sides.

She called for a break eventually, taking a drink out of the cabinet. 'This is combat practice isn't it – in case I get into a fight and someone else is shooting at me.'

He pulled open the next drawer along and retrieved a blaster pistol.

'We can move on to combat practice if you think you're ready. This is a specially designed Jedi training blaster, I'm going to fire it at you and I want you to stop the bolt before it hits. It's not going to kill you, but it might sting a bit.' He turned it round and handed her the stock. 'You shoot it at me first, and I'll demonstrate.'

She took careful aim, and then shot him in the face. The charge didn't connect, just stayed suspended in the air for a few seconds, long enough to give him time to dodge out of the way.

'Impressive. Alright, I'll have a go.'

The first blast caught her on the arm, glancing across her flesh too fast to stop and leaving a blistered trail in its wake. She yelled out in pain. 'Stop. You actually shot me.'

The second shot grazed her right thigh, punched a big hole through the cloak and buried itself in the back wall. 'Stop it. There's something wrong with the blaster. That's live fire.'

The third shot just clipped her neck and she could smell her hair smouldering. 'Stop it,' she shouted, advancing towards him, anger rising swiftly with the pain.

He shot her again, her shoulder this time, a glancing blow but enough to burn. His face was impassive, unmoved, and she knew he'd hurt her all day if he had to. 'Stop it, stop it, stop it.'

She was ablaze with fury, wanting nothing more than to snatch the gun back and turn it on him. She sensed his finger tightening on the trigger and she focused on the shot, paused it just beyond the barrel, ducking underneath so she could yell into his face.

'I said, stop it.'

She snatched the gun out of his grip, checked it over. 'This is an ordinary blaster. There's no training setting.' She shook it at him. 'I don't believe the Jedi shot their apprentices without warning. What are you doing?'

He rolled a shoulder. 'That was a bit more dark side. Do you see how much more quickly you learn if you hate me? I know you hate me.' He paused for a second. 'Why did you come back?'

'Because you won't let me leave the ship. I don't have anywhere else to go.'

'Not now. After the fireplace when you held my hand. Why did you come and find me?' He scanned her face with sharp, darting movements of those dark, dark eyes, searching for something hidden.

'To turn you away from the dark side.'

That was the obvious answer. It was the one she'd given Luke. It was the one she wanted to believe.

He inclined his head a fraction, considering, and in that sing-song voice he used when he was trying to be particularly menacing he said, 'No, that's not it.'

This close up, close, but not touching, the intensity of his attention disturbed her on some profound level. Whether or not you liked him, at this range he was utterly compelling. His eyes drew her in, the secrets behind them, the pain they hid. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, her every conscious thought telling her to stay away from the fall, a flash of temptation in her heart to do it anyway. The first, electric second became a moment, stretched into a minute, longer, before she lost track, watching him watch her, wondering what would happen next.

She could see where the edges of the scar had knitted together, the parts that would never heal, the evidence of older damage wrought in odd patches across his skin.

She thought about kissing him.

She looked at his lips and the thought was there in her head so quickly it shocked her.

'That's what I thought,' he said and left her standing there with her cheeks flaming, disgusted with herself.