Star Wars: Dark Angel, Scarlet Dragon Ch. 03

Ruled by the house of his name.

"Then we will marry," he said.

Her pupils shrank back into slits. and the snarl melted from her lips in astonishment. "What?"

"I will marry you," he repeated. "My son will need a mother. And you will need to have my name if you are to be the Ranee of House Vader."

The Ranee of House Vader. She sucked in a breath when she realized she had forgotten to breathe. She tried to say something. And absolutely could not. Vader read her thoughts, and furrowed his brow. "You thought... you thought I would leave you, after I discovered my son is alive. You have so little faith in me, Lylla?"

Despite the elation hammering in her chest, she narrowed her eyes and said emphatically, "You threw me into an elevator and ordered me not to come back. Now you want to marry me. Things like this tend to confuse women, my Lord."

His eyes flared, and he ground his teeth. Again, not the response he anticipated. "You should not have followed me," he admonished harshly. "I left you where you would be safe."

"I was afraid for you!" Lylla countered firmly.

"You pitied me!"

"ARRRHH!" Lylla exploded, clenching her hands as she did when her ire arose. She sprang to her feet. "You are IMPOSSIBLE, VADER!"

Vader lunged at her, grabbed her by the arms before she could flee, and dragged her on top of him, holding her mercilessly to his eyes. "I almost killed you once today," he rasped into her face. "Trust me Lylla, if I hadn't thrown you out... I would have succeeded the second time." Despite his ferocity, Lylla saw the fear in his eyes. Fear of losing her. She had thought that he didn't want her anymore: It hadn't occurred to her that he was protecting her. He tightened his grip on her arms. "I will not lose another wife."

Wife, she thought. He called me his wife.

Their glares locked. Her breathing was as ragged as his. Then they crushed each other's lips in a violent kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth- she captured it with her own. Vader ripped the clasp of her dressing gown open and forced his hands inside, and was pleased she was wearing nothing underneath. He gripped her ass and pulled her even further on top of him. Lylla clamped her long legs around his. Grabbing her hand, he forced it to his hardening codpiece. "Release me," he hissed.

Lylla viciously obeyed. She tore at the fasteners and ripped it open. His shaft sprang out, already erect, and she stroked its extensive length, long and slow, into hardness that was almost painful. She shifted herself to straddle it, her cunt soaked and aching. Vader grabbed her by her waist, forcing her down and thrusting inside of her at the same time. Lylla roared through her teeth, the pain just adding to her lust.

Vader wrenched the gown down and off her body. He grabbed the back of her head, took her mouth again with his, and used the Force to unweave her braid, freeing her hip-length hair to blow around them by unfelt winds. He clamped his arm around her and held her captive as he pumped her onto his cock, deeply, relentlessly, with no concern for her pain. When she tried to break the kiss to scream, he took her bottom lip into his teeth and held her there.

Even trapped as she was, Lylla managed to shift her legs so that they wrapped around his waist, and she hooked her fingers around his belt to pull his cock even deeper inside of her. It hurt, gods, how it hurt. But the pain was nothing compared to the firestorm spreading through her. *Hurt me*, she pathed to him, *Take my pain, it's yours!*

He bit her lip even harder, slammed her down even harder. She cried out with agony and passion. *Ours, Lylla* he growled in her mind, *It will ALL be ours. You, I, my son... we will reign together, will we create a dynasty that will last for a thousand years. You, my queen, will forever be at my side.*

Lylla unleashed a wail of pleasure and joy, and tears burst from her eyes. Vader let go of her lip but still held her hair, and pulled her back so his eyes could feast on her lithe ivory body. He ran his massive hand over her, fondled her firm breasts, plucked and teased her nipples before hungrily taking one with his lips and teeth, and thoroughly enjoyed her spasms around his cock. She began to buck her hips faster when he took her throat into the crook of his palm, but he did not squeeze. *You are too greedy, my Dragon. Savor me.*

Her eyes sprung open. A sneering smile broke through her tears, she let out a guttural moan, and she calmed her rhythm, undulating around his shaft in slow, circular strokes. Vader traced his fingertips to her solar plexus, sending the Force through them. She flung her head back, her lips forming a perfect O. The harsh light, the chamber, the rubble all around them, the world disappeared, as always when he brought her to that place in the Dark Side. Walls blew away like dust, and they were surrounded by black space and white stars.

She opened her eyes, and she saw Vader was slowly morphing into his young blond avatar. But she lurched forward, her hands on his shoulders, and just touched his lips with her own. "No," she whispered. "No Vader, don't. I want you." She cradled his head. "This face, the face of the man I love."

She could tell he was taken aback, so she kissed him. He slid his hands down to her hips, and moved her body to meet his rhythm. She released his lips to arch back, gripping his robes to hold herself steady. Soon, her moans turned into the short high-pitched staccato cries that told him she was close. Looking behind her, he could see the black pointed wings of the Sithalim in the far distance of the black sky, as they often appeared when he brought her here. But when he brought his eyes back to her...

Lylla ground herself faster and harder on his cock, her cries dropping in pitch, becoming rougher, deeper, a sound that was no longer quite human. When she snapped her head back forward and looked into his eyes, they were all black once again. She bared her teeth again, but this time, her canines grew out of her mouth, longer, pointed razor sharp. This was none of his doing.

It was hers.

Lylla's hair flew back into a scarlet spray around her head. Her cries turned into the snorts of a rutting beast, she bucked wildly against him, her head rolling. Fire came out of her eyes, and saliva dripped from her fangs as she came closer, closer...

When she flung her body back and screamed into the skies, two translucent wings unfolded from her back, reticulated, enormous, of every discernible shade of scarlet and black, and spread across the entire sky.

Dragon's wings.

That was when Vader knew. Now he knew why her appearance had changed so drastically at their first coupling, the first time she touched the Dark Side, and why her hair grew so fast. Why she had an almost inhuman capacity for learning. Why she attracted the Dark Side of the Force the way she did. And now, he knew why she couldn't use it in the world of matter and time without another Force user as a conduit.

He now knew why he called her Dragon.

He had suspected something that first day when she arrived with the other pleasure slaves on the Death Star, when she looked up at him in the hangar bay. It was one reason why he had her followed and watched. Even then, the Dark Side surrounded her unlike anyone he had ever seen. Now he was sure.

However, this hardly aggrieved The Dark Lord of the Sith: Quite the opposite. She exploded her essence, liquid hot, all over his shaft and thighs. His cock grew even harder, he felt his balls tighten into his loins, the muscles of his back tensed. He grasped her ass with one hand, lunged the other forward, and grabbed her by the throat. He pulled her to his face as he erupted his seed inside of her, his roar matching hers, snaring her eyes of fire into his own. Even in this state, Lylla's wicked smile emerged, the one she always smiled when he came. With the fangs, she looked even more beautiful.

He thrust her down one, two, three more times before he was spent. Lylla still undulated and writhed, coming down from her own orgasm. He reached up, cupped her cheek, and heard the purr of a beast emerge from her throat. *Lylla, come. It's time go back.*

The black skies illuminated back into the harsh white lighting of his hyperbaric chamber.

Her fangs shrank back into her mouth. The wings dissipated like smoke. Her eyes returned to their frost white and black slits.

Lylla collapsed onto him, panting, her hair sticking to her sweat-coated body. But as she came back to normality, she started to shake. She raised her head to look at Vader. Her lip trembled, and her scared eyes darted around the room. "Vader..." she whimpered, "Vader, what happened to me?"

"Ssshhh." He caressed her face with the back of his fingers. "Don't be frightened, Lylla."

"What... what happened?"

She didn't know. And she mustn't ever know. For her own protection. Sidious must never discover what she was. If he did, he would take her away from him, he would enslave her. Or worse.

He smiled a soft, strange, knowing smile. "What happened?" He threaded his fingers through her hair. "The Dark Side... gave you to me, Lylla," he murmured. He brought her lips to his once more. Lylla calmed under his kiss. He released her lips, laid her head on his shoulder and held her, still buried inside her. Lylla wrinkled her brow-he had never done this before. But she melted into him. He pressed his lips into her hair. "We will marry on Mustafar, at my fortress. However," he put a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to his again, "you will have a task to complete before we are wed. I am sending you on a mission."

Her eyes widened. "A mission? You mean... on my own?" He nodded once. "Wh...what is it?"

"You will go to Naboo, to the Naberrie estate. You will exhume Padme Amidala's body, and have an autopsy run. You will then report what you find directly to me."

Lylla recoiled from him. "WHAT?"

Vader didn't let her. He grabbed her neck and pulled her back. "You said you would do anything to help me find Skywalker, Lylla. Was that a lie?" His expression grew darker. "I want to know what happened to Padme and my son. An autopsy will tell me that."

She began to tremble with rage and desolation. "You... you're making me go to her grave? You're making me actually look at her body?" Lylla thrashed in his grip. "How can you do this? You know how much that will hurt me!"

"That is exactly why I am sending you, Sa'thraxxx," Vader replied dryly.

Lylla drew her lips into a thin line, and looked down and away from him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of angry tears. "You are cruel, Vader."

"Very." He ran his fingers down the back of her neck, a gesture at once affectionate and chilling. "Do you want my name, Lylla? And everything that goes with it? The power? The fear?" A low, dark chuckle came from deep within him. "This rage you feel toward me now? Use it, Sa'thraxxx. Let it feed your own cruelty."

Lylla's trembling stopped. Her anger evaporated. She understood now. Her life played across her mind: All the pain, all the assaults and the abuse and the rape, the selling and buying of her body, her blood and her tears, her fertility, everything that was stolen from her... it all had led her to this moment. Hate, anger, pain, they were no longer her burdens: They were her weapons, her lifespring. It was then, as she gazed into the eyes of the Lord of the Sith, when Lylla truly understood what is was to be Sith.

She looked down in thought, then back up to him. "I'll need records. Amidala's autopsy report and medical records. Surveys of the estate. Public and personal records of the family. Holo-communications, holonet correspondences, anything available. I want to know everything about them."

A slow, satisfied smile twisted Vader's lip. "You shall have them." He paused. "You will need your own ship. I will commission one of my own modifications."

Lylla's mouth dropped open. "My...own ship?"

"It is only fitting that you have your own vessel. You may, of course, name it. You will also take a platoon from the 501st."

"The troopers I met below, guarding the lift, TK7866 and TK4932. I want them in that unit."

He cocked a brow. "Done."

Lylla leaned back, took his hands, put them on her waist, and slowly began to pump her wet sex over his cock, smiling when she felt it wake up again. "I will not fail you, my Lord," she purred.

Vader moaned deep within his chest as he gripped her hips. "Of that, I have no doubt."

xi

"This is Naboo Sky Traffic Security to incoming vessel. Identify yourselves."

"This is Captain Rhys of the ISS Harbinger. You will clear us airspace." Rhys smirked a bit when he heard the muffled voices of the traffic controllers jabber at each other in mild panic.

"Naboo Sky Traffic Security to ISS Harbinger. We will need to clear this with the Palace before we can grant you access."

"You will do no such thing," Rhys drawled. "Naboo is a vassal sovereignty within the Galactic Empire, and hence we have full jurisdiction. If you do not grant us unescorted access, the Queen will have Lord Vader to contend with."

Another silence. Then, "Naboo Sky Traffic Security to ISS Harbinger. You... are cleared."

"Confirmed. Harbinger out." He signaled the communications officer to cut the link. Stepping forward to the helm, and laid his hands on the pilot's and copilot's' shoulders. "Take us in."

"Yes, sir," replied the pilot. "Coordinates verified. Should reach destination in five minutes."

"Excellent." Rhys turned and strode through the bridge. He walked through the deck to a short set of stairs, and stepped to the upper deck. He stopped, stood at attention, and folded his hands behind his back. "Baroness, we have entered Naboon airspace," he informed the woman sitting before him.

Baroness Sa'thraxxx sat in a large armed chair with her ankles crossed. Her arms were extended in front of her as two manicurists finished drying her nails with small hand-held ultraviolet dryers. Behind her, her stylist trimmed the last locks of her hair off her neck. Another stylist finished accentuating the arcs of her eyebrows. And yet another servant polished one last spot on her jackboots. She smiled slightly, and her eyes narrowed. "The men are ready?"

"Yes, Baroness. Everything is set."

Taking a breath, she rose from the chair and extended her arms to her sides as the servants draped a flowing cowled black cloak over and around her shoulders. "Enjoying your first command, Rhys?"

Rhys bowed his head. "Very much, Baroness. I thank you for the commendation to Lord Vader for this commission."

"Piett will miss you. You are one of the more capable officers on the Executor. Which is why I wanted you."

"Thank you, Baroness."

She came forward and stopped in front of him. "See Rhys. I'm not so bad. Am I?"

Rhys looked down for a moment, then back up to her. "I am in your debt, Lady."

She smiled and stepped around him and down the ladder onto the bridge and walked to stand between the pilots. She ran a hand over the edge of the gleaming helm of her new starship, the Harbinger, the most advanced and sophisticated Raider-Class Corvette in the fleet, thanks to the engineering genius of her betrothed. She looked out of the port down over the lush paradise of day-side Naboo as they descended to their destination.

xii

"Nana," Ryoo Naberrie called to Jobal. She got off her knees and brushed the dirt off her trousers before hurrying to her mother and grandmother seated on the garden bench. "Look at this one!"

Jobal Naberrie gasped and laughed at the same time. "Ryoo, that's a parsin fruit? It's bigger than your head!"

"I know!" Ryoo exclaimed. "And the bigger, the sweeter."

"Well, we definitely know who got Dad's green thumb in the family," Sola Naberrie chuckled.

Ryoo smiled at her mother Sola. "Mom, would you please make a parsin fruit salad for tomorrow's celebration after the ceremony? Yours is the best, I just can't seem to get the recipe right."

"That's because you use too much sugar, Ryoo," Sola said. "The secret is letting the fruit sweeten the salad. But yes, I'll make it."

Ryoo beamed. "Thanks, Mom. I'm going to gather up some timallios and greens for the other salads."

"Ryoo, we're having a gathering, not feeding an army," Jobal joked.

The young woman turned back around, the Naboon breeze catching her gauzy gardening shirt, walking backwards as she smiled. "You said it yourself, Nana- no one leaves the Naberrie house hungry." With that, she went back to working the expansive garden in the grand walled courtyard of the Naberrie estate.

Jobal laughed. "I do say that, don't I?" She looked at Sola. "When is Pooja getting in?"

"Very early tomorrow. She told me she just had to finish writing up her instructions for her staff to cover for her."

Jobal sighed. "I'm glad she found something to do after the Emperor dissolved the Senate."

"Pooja's first love was always mission work. She only joined the Senate at the Queen's behest. But Pooja never really liked politics. I believe she is much happier." Sola gazed after her other daughter in the garden. "Sometimes, I just can't get over how much Ryoo looks like Padme. Same hair, same smile." She turned to her mother. "She looks so forward to it every year, her birthday celebration. Seeing old friends and family. She loved her Aunt Padme so much." Jobal, seated next to her, reached over to her daughter and took her hand, squeezing it. But Sola caught the sadness in that smile. "I know it's different for you, Mom."

Jobal Naberrie took a long breath of the Naboo midsummer air, fragrant with lilac and sweetsuckle, and gazed at the rose-covered wall on the far side of the garden. "She would have been fifty tomorrow. With children of her own, possibly even a grandbaby." She turned away from Sola, but not before her daughter saw her lip shake. "I should be over it by now, Sola. It was over twenty years ago. But I can't seem to do it."

"Mama," Sola said, "no one expects you to get over it. I lost a sister. But you lost a child, and a grandchild. If anything happened to Ryoo or Pooja... I don't think I'd nearly be as strong as you have been."

Jobal looked to her left, to the grove of swaying green and white limeran trees off in the distance, at the far edge of their property. The small round white marble building, kissed by the bright sunlight, shimmered through their leaves as they swayed with the breeze. "At least she is resting with your father. She's not alone anymore." She paused. "I still don't understand, Sola. She was so young and so healthy. Why did she die?" Jobal turned back to her daughter. "And why did she keep secrets from us? Why didn't she tell us about the baby? About Anakin Skywalker?"

"Anakin was a Jedi, Mama. They weren't allowed to marry. They had to keep it secret-"

"That is no reason, Sola," Jobal quietly snapped. "They could have come here, we would have welcomed them with open arms. We would have bought them a house, cared for them. If Anakin Skywalker loved her so much, he should have left the Jedi Order to be with her. But no, he couldn't possibly leave the glory and adulation of being Jedi Knight General Skywalker. He couldn't reign in his ambition. Or his selfishness. He didn't even come to her funeral." The old woman glared at the ground. "I will never forgive him, Sola. He took my baby away. Whether he is alive or dead now, I will never forgive Anakin Skywalker."

Sola sighed. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to upset you."

Jobal sighed as well, and reached for Sola's hand. "You didn't, my darling girl." Then she lightly slapped her knees. "Well, enough of this moping. We are having several dozen people here tomorrow, and I've gotten my dose of fresh air and sunshine today. Time to get to work."