Star Wars: A Legacy of Force

Part 3

 

The Jedi knight lowered herself head-down from the edge of the emergency escape hatch. She was already certain that there were pressure pads hidden under the surface of the asteroids rocky ground near the hatch, and she was confident in her ability to create a sensor blind using her modified datapad to broadcast a false image directly into the door frames surveillance equipment. No one could see her.

 

That just meant she had to find a way to open the door without anyone inside knowing.

 

She frowned, blinking inside her pressurized suit as she hung suspended from the hook and line played out above her.  The suit was almost body hugging, but still much more cumbersome than her usual Jedi robes. She could unhook her light sabre from her equipment belt and cut through the door of course, but she might have well have walked up to the main hanger of the base and announced her presence. The same went for cutting through the rock around the frame.

 

She needed to be sneaky, but fortunately, she had learned from the best.

 

Stretching out with her Force awareness, she sensed the connections that registered the open or closed state of the hatch. A break in the connections would alert those inside, so she had to trick them into thinking they were still receiving current.

 

She concentrated, feeling the energy running through the conduits. Focusing, she tapped into her anger and frustration at not being able to enter. 

 

Tiny sparks appeared in her minds eye, the feeble sputterings of force lightning.  It was a dark side power and the Jedi was loathe to use it, but perhaps this would be justified by the greater good.

 

She shook her head.  That attitude had already cost her family a great deal, but now was not the time for doubts.

 

Using the force lightning she sent current coursing through the connections and then used the infiltration program on her data pad to crack the encrypted code and open the door.

 

It swung inward.  There were no alarms, at least not ones she was aware of.  Without hesitating, she swung herself inside the airlock and sealed the hatch behind her.  Only then did she relax her concentration on the Force lighting and allow the normal flow of current to resume.

 

The airlock was small, a 5 foot square space with the ceiling 8 feet overhead.  She was facing another hatch, also sealed.  Beside the door were controls for pressurizing the space.

 

She didn’t touch them, knowing using them to fill the chamber with air would alert the base security computer.  The hatch opened outwards away from her, and there was no easy way to open it from within by without pressurizing the space because of the atmospheric differential. Using the Force would probably have worked, but would have caused so much damage the noise was bound to be noticed. Instead, she disconnected her suits air supply and let precious oxygen bleed out into the space, only stopping when she began to feel light headed. She repeated the process twice more, and then there was enough atmosphere for her to remove her helmet.

 

The Jedi shook out her hair and moved to the doorway, setting to the task of cracking its encrypted locking code as well.

 

***

 

Lumiya found Jacen sitting in the room that displayed the interrogation chamber. The main screen was dominated by the view of the still unconscious Mara Jade Skywalker, while smaller screens around it showed the various part of her questioning so far from different times and angles. Jacen sat in a high backed chair with one leg up, his elbow resting on his knee and his chin against his knuckles.

 

‘I told you she would not break easily,’ the Sith Lady said.

 

‘And I told you I knew that,’ Jacen replied.

 

Lumiya came around in front of him and perched herself on the control panel, her legs out and her hands beside her.  As usual, she affected a wrap around turban headdress that included a cloth across her lower face and left only her expressive eyes visible.

 

‘May I make an observation?’ she asked.

 

Jacen did not reply, but merely raised a curious eyebrow.

 

‘If you continue with her as you have done, you will fail.’

 

Jacen sniffed.  ‘Perhaps you didn’t hear her during our last session. She almost broke.’

 

Lumiya shook her head.  ‘Not even close. Your problem, Jacen, is that you’re holding back.

 

Again, Jacen did not respond verbally, but merely reached forward and flicked a switch.  At once sound filled the room to match one of the screens.

 

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

 

‘AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR…No…NO!!’

 

ZZZZZZZZZRRRRRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

 

‘EEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!’

 

Lumiya reached out with the Force and killed the audio feed. ‘I don’t mean your holding back from hurting her Jacen. I mean your holding yourself back – you’re keeping yourself in check.  She can sense it and she will use it against you.’

 

‘You’re saying I should use my anger?’

 

‘Not anger,’ Lumiya said slowly. ‘Pleasure.’

 

Jacen’s frown deepened.  ‘There is no joy to be had in this.’

 

‘You’re wrong,’ Lumiya insisted, and her eyes hardened.  ‘Worse, you’re lying. You have already tasted the sweetness of power Jacen. This is just one more exercise in power, perhaps the most enthralling of all – the power of personally dominating another being, bending them to your will, forcing them to see the universe as we do, as we know it must be. ’

 

‘Through pain,’ Jacen said, his eyes hard.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what I want.’

 

‘Of course not, but it is something you will have to accept if you are to achieve your goals.  Others will resist you, as Mara does, and they must be dealt with. If you limit yourself in doing these tasks, you give them the advantage.  The true Sith does not limit their abilities with outdated moralizing.  They revel in their destiny and embrace it fully.’

 

Jacen looked troubled, but much less than he would have been a short while ago. ‘You’re saying I should take pleasure in inflicting pain on others?’

 

‘I’m saying you should feel pleasure in achieving your desires, knowing they are noble. Guilt and shame only prolong suffering; yours,’ Lumiya nodded to the screen, ‘and hers.’

 

Jacen said nothing. Lumiya stood up, putting her hand on his shoulder briefly as she walked from the room and left him to ponder her words.

 

***

 

When Mara woke up she was in the same room, but her circumstances had changed. Not improved, but definitely changed.

 

The first thing she noticed was the absence of excruciating pain in her shoulders, arms and legs. All those areas, and every other part of her for that matter, still hurt, but the constant hellish torment of limbs stretched to just short of dismemberment was gone.

 

She didn’t open her eyes. Using the Force Jacen or Lumiya would know she was awake, but neither of them could be monitoring her all the time.  Her best chance of escape was to overpower one of Jacen’s GAG troops who had been set to watch her, and for that, surprise would be a big bonus.

 

She allowed her body to tell her about her surroundings.  She was still mostly nude – that caused a momentary despair, but she set it aside. She was seated in a metal chair with a high back, but which seemed to be mostly constructed of round struts with no frames in between.  Her back was exposed to the air and her backside was pressed down into the gap where a typical chairs seat would be. The arms seemed to be made of the same kind of tubular metal fittings, and equipped with manacles that fitted around her wrists.  She could feel that her legs were spread wide, uncomfortably so, and all the worse for the brutal wrenching her hips and thighs had already been subjected to. More manacles went around her ankles on the outside of the chair legs and kept her booted feet planted firmly against the floor.

 

Mara listened.  The mechanical hum of the six torture arms was not present, and nor was any other noise.  She was certain she was alone in the room.

 

She kept her eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness.  After a few moments she heard the door hiss open and one set of booted feet enter. She remained perfectly still and relaxed as they stopped just inside her doorway, obviously watching her.  Then the door closed again as the steps came nearer.

 

The man – she could tell by the spacing and weight of the footfalls – stopped just in front of her.  It burned in Mara’s gut to let this creep stand there and look at her, trussed up like some Twi’lek sex slave, but she kept her emotions firmly under control. Look at how sexy she is, the haughty Jedi bitch all chained up and helpless.  I suppose she never through she’d be in this position, did she.  Bet she doesn’t even know what a REAL man is like – you could teach this stuck up Jedi whore a thing or to, couldn’t you?

 

A gloved hand reached out and came to rest on her head, pulling her face around. No doubt to make sure she was really out to it.  Then the hand moved down to her neck, and slowly on down to the slope of her breasts. At the handling of her full curves Mara felt like screaming, but she made her self remain totally unresponsive.

 

Yeah, feel these you pervert.  Feel good, don’t they? You can still see the marks from where your sick creep of a commanding officer had her whipped. Oh, both hands now – yeah you’re a real man, all right, groping an unconscious woman while she’s tied up and can’t fight back.  Bet this is the first time in months you’ve touched a woman’s breasts without having to pay for it. That’s right, play with the Jedi sluts nice firm tits – mmmm squeeze them – aah, your pinching! Careful, you don’t want to wake her up. But she’d like it rough, wouldn’t she? Rough and hard, you letting her know who’s the boss.  This is the best you’ve ever felt in your whole miserable pathetic little life, isn’t it? Right now your dirty little creep penis is throbbing like a pulsar thinking about getting inside this arrogant red haired slut. Fucking a she-Jedi against her will – that’s a dream come true, isn’t it? It’s the apex of you foul little fantasy life and she’s right here in front of you.

 

The man was standing close now, between her legs.  Mara could sense his nearness, the excitement coursing through him. His leg brushed her thigh as he loomed over her. Then he stepped back a little.  She was aware of him kneeling, one of his hands moving down her body. He felt her stomach, running his palm over the hard flat muscle and on down through the soft fuzzy copper crowning her womanhood.

 

A gloved finger pressed against her labia. It pulled softly, giving the fingers owner a view of the soft pink lips beyond. Then there were two fingers, gently opening her, a third edging forward to explore. She wanted to scream, rip herself out of the chair and break that hand off at the wrist, tear it off and choke him with it.  But she stayed calm, focussed. 

 

She was sure that he was going to penetrate her digitally, but instead the hand withdrew.  She heard the soft sound of the man standing up, then unhooking something from his belt.

 

There was a hiss, and she felt as if her face had been thrust out through a portal into the middle of a Hoth blizzard.  Stinging cold made her skin burn and she jerked back, snorting as the air going down her now froze in her lungs.  She coughed and spluttered, shaking her head as frost formed and instantly began to melt on her cheeks and lips.

 

Knowing it was useless to try and feign unconsciousness now she opened her eyes, glaring at her assailant.

 

He was a little less than average height, dressed in a GAG trooper combat uniform of black cloth, but without the ceramic armour that looked like old-fashioned Imperial Stormtrooper armour sprayed black. He wore the suits face concealing black helmet, dark reflective transparisteel showing her a distorted reflection of her own features in the space where his eyes would be. She could tell by his stance and appearance he was well toned under the clothing, lean and muscular. As she looked up at him he tossed aside the spray can of diluted liquid CO2 used for fire-fighting and it clattered to the metal floor.

 

Mara blinked her eyes clear and smiled without humour. ‘Careful, Jacen; your men might hear you and come to find out what’s happening.’

 

It was a guess, but she was pretty confident in it.  The man’s height and build were right, and she could not imagine the GAG commander being foolish enough to let common soldiers have authorized access to her like this.  She had been gambling that some guard had decided to break ranks and sneak some fun for himself, maybe as payback for some simmering grudge against Jedi that she often ran up against, but the fact that this man had chosen to wake her up showed he wasn’t worried about his superior officers finding our about what he was doing. The most likely reason for that was that on this base he had no superior officers.

 

But the helmeted man gave no reply, except a slight change in his body language that suggested he was surprised with her statement but also relieved, like someone who finds out their crime has been blamed on another person.  Could that mean that she had guessed wrong – or was it a trick by Jacen to make her think that?

 

The man stood looking at her, his helmet moving to let her know he was inspecting all of her. He rubbed together the fingers that had teased her naked quim.

 

‘Are you just going to stand there all day, or is there something you came here to do?’ she asked, a bit of impatience creeping into her tone.

 

The man still did not reply, obviously trying to unnerve her by his ongoing silent appraisal. It was a fairly standard interrogation ploy and Mara countered easily by shrugging her shoulder and turning her head away to examine the far wall, sighing as if she were merely bored.

 

They stayed like that for two minutes.

 

Mara wished she still had access to her Force powers, but whatever Jacen had done to suppress them was still affecting her. She wondered whether it was something he had to concentrate on, or whether it was something he had put in place and would last until he reversed it. Either way, there was no means for her to know for sure who was behind the black visor looking at her.

 

Finally the man moved.  He reached around and touched a button a device around his wrist, and there was a soft hum as a panel opened in the floor beside him. A small table rose up smoothly through the open space, stopping at waist height to the black suited man and supporting a shallow metal tray arrayed with a half a dozen metal implements.

 

The man (Jacen, whoever) selected one and held it up.  It looked like a primitive surgical scalpel, but there seemed to be some circuitry built in the round metallic handle.  The man thumbed a button on one side of the grip and the two-inch triangular blade on the device started to glow a dull red.

 

Mara watched the blade heating up and stiffened a little.  ‘Decided to get your hands dirty, Jacen?  And here I though you were going to let your sick machines have all the fun!’

 

The man said nothing but reached our and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back.  She winced but made no sound of pain as he kneeled down in front of her and moved the heated blade towards her face.

 

Mara watched the blade come closer, her eyes hard. There was the tangy scent of heated metal and she could feel the warmth of the blade on her cheek, but she looked at if fearlessly. Only the merest twitching of her mouth and eyes showed how aware she was of what he could do to her.

 

The blade dipped as he shifted his grip slightly and reached down towards her midriff.

 

Mara struggled, but there was nothing she could do.  When the blade was an inch from her skin she could feel the heat, like a sharp prickle.  She made sure she controlled her breathing and stayed calm.  This was only pain – she could handle pain.

 

The blade reached out and gently glided over the skin of her belly.

 

She gasped, sucking in her gut.  The anguish was intense, like her skin was being peeled away.  There was a hiss and she smelt her own burned flesh. The man let go of her hair and instead grabbed one of her legs. Balling her gloved hands into fists she held herself still and watched him steadying himself, moving the blade in so that it touched her again and made a slow line running across her middle.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

 

Mara made a low, tight lipped sound of pain, grimacing and clenching her teeth as the hot metal cut her. A line of torment traced from one side of her abdomen to the other, the skin parting as a bright red burn line.  There was little blood because the heat cauterized the wound as it cut, but the pain was intense.  When the knife drew away, the torment remained undiminished.

 

‘Damn you, Jacen…,’

 

The man, as usual, didn’t answer. The next cut was vertical, tracking the line of her muscled from her sternum down towards her navel.  Then he made a lazy circle around her belly button, making sure he kept the blade pressed to her suffering flesh as she twisted and gasped, trembling in the chair as he cut her.

 

‘MMMMMMNNNNNNN!’

 

Mara kept her booted feet pressed firmly against the floor, her legs trembling slightly as she kept her body steady. Her fingers worked in twisting, clawing shapes as the cuts travelled over her bound body, but she kept her lips pressed tight together, stifling the sounds of pain she instinctively wanted to make. She felt the hot metal cutting into her right thigh and jerked hard, closing her eyes and willing back the little tears that wanted to spill down her cheeks as the sensitive skin blistered along the incision. He made the cut three inches long, then he made a duplicate on the opposite leg as his lovely prisoner blew out hair to stifle her screams and her nubile body shook in the chair frame.

 

The man in black stepped back and looked down at her as she panted in the chair. She could feel the hot stickiness of blood on her skin around the incisions, and the constant feeling of searing heat. He had cut just deep enough to make sure the pain receptors in her skin received maximum stimulation.

 

The man shut off the heat to the blade and put the scalpel down.  When Mara looked up at him, he was picking up what looked like a set of workman’s pliers, simple hand operated tools designed to grip using a set of flat metal jaws each as long and wide as her thumb. Stepping round behind her he grabbed her hair and again hauled her head back, as far as it would go this time. Mara felt her stomach tighten as she was stretched back, bringing fresh suffering to the cuts on her belly.

 

The pliers appeared in front of her face, carried down by the gloved hand holding them.  Unable to move her head she could only follow with her eyes, struggling with all her strength but rendered helpless by the shackles that gave her no room for leverage. The metal jaws came down and touched the skin of her breasts as they rose and fell.

 

‘Sithspawn…,’ Mara hissed, still struggling.

 

The jaws pushed into the curve of her chest, halfway between the topmost line of the swelling sphere and the coin sized pink button at its crest, the skin trapped between the flat heads of the grips. Then those grips started to close, tightening around the softness between.  Tighter and tighter, until it went from pressure to pain…then more pain.

 

‘Dammit!’

 

Tighter and tighter. Worse and worse.  It felt like her whole being was being pulled slowly into that spot on her breast, like it was a gravity well of pain sucking her down. The throbbing suffering radiating from it spread outwards in pulsing waves as she moaned and fought.

 

‘Stop it, Jacen!  Damn it, stop!!’

 

He didn’t.  The jaws closed until there was barely a half and inch between them, and a trickle of blood testified to the skin breaking under the relentless compression.  Then they closed some more.

 

‘GAAAAAAA!’

 

Mara’s eyes were shut tight and her red mouth was stretched back in a grimace of pain. Her hands gripped the ends of the chair arms like claws. The pliers gave a quarter twist and she cried out, legs braced.

 

‘AAAAAARRRR…YOU RODDER!’

 

He pushed the jaws hard into her chest, the fulsome mound bulging around the tool in her had. He pushed hard enough to feel her rib cage and squeezed so hard it felt like the flesh was being ground to red pulp. Mara’s head shook side to side and she bucked in the chair, sweat running down her body. Her breasts trembled and her scream was piercing.

 

‘AAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!’

 

She could feel his helmeted head next to her face, watching the damage to her breast and the way she was shaking, struggling. He twisted the jaws back the other way, then pulled them outward, dragging the captured tit meat with it.

 

‘AAA! AAAHH! AAAHHHHH!’

 

The pressure vanished.  The jaws were in front of her face again, only now they were wet with blood. She tried to breathe around the pain in the left side of her chest, gulping air like she had run a marathon.

 

The pliers moved again, this time coming down on her right nipple.

 

‘NO!’ Mara tried to pull free, heaving with all her strength.  Rationally she knew it was hopeless, that he could do whatever he wanted and there was no way to stop him, but she couldn’t just sit there – she had to fight! She could hear his breathing inside the helmet, fast and shallow. Excited.

 

‘You sick son-of-a-Hutt! NO!’

 

He didn’t keep her in suspense this time, jamming the flat jaws hard around the pink nubbin and clamping savagely, crushing it in the steel hard grip.

 

‘YAAAAAAAAAAAAA! UN-UHH-AARRRRRRRRRR!!!’

 

Mara’s breast felt like it was bursting, like it had swollen to twice its size and was ready to explode. She leaned forward and screamed while her long legs kicked hard, shrieking in agony. He let go of her head and grabbed her other tie as he kept crushing her nipple, blood running down her body from where he was mutilating her breast. His hand twisted the other breast as he kept up the torture, the pain from that bruised and bloodied orb adding to volume to her screams.

 

The pain kept going and going, until Mara could not even think about anything about how much he was hurting her. Without the Force to provide a buffer between her and the torture all she could do was feel it all.  If the pain had been a gravity well before, now it was a black hole, tearing her to pieces and crushing her into a single point on the peak of her breast where nothing could exist except constant inescapable agony. The only thing that could escape the terrible pull was the desperate venting of her anguish through the ear-splitting howls ripping out from her gaping, full-lipped mouth.

 

‘YAAAAHHH! EEAAAA…AAAAA…AAAAAAIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR!!!’

 

When he let go of her nipple, she fell forward in the chair, dragging in air with deep, sobbing gasps.

 

He walked around in front of her while she slouched in the seat, shivering.  Her boob felt like it was being pounded over and over again with a hammer. She heard the soft clatter of her torturer putting down the pliers in the tray and picking up something else. She did not look up, blinking back tears in her green eyes and gathering her strength.

 

‘Really…feeling it now…aren’t you Jacen?’ she panted.  She looked up at him, shaking hair out of her eyes as it hung like a copper veil about her face. ‘Come on, Colonel,’ she sneered. There was nothing but contempt in that fierce emerald gaze, and her tone was thick with pain but also with mocking.  ‘You’re only getting started, little boy. Show Aunt Mara everything you want!’

 

As always, the man in black said nothing, but held up his latest tool, thumbing the on switch so that it gave a soft, warbling buzz.