TheBridge

Luke stared blankly at the dark haired girl, his mind trying to process what in the kark she was doing here.

“You…you’re the Princess ,” he stated, and internally kicked himself for that ridiculously obvious statement.

“Yes, well observed,” she hissed, glaring at him and seizing his arm. “Come on!”

She dragged him swiftly toward an innocuous door which led to a small storage area for cleaning droids and supplies. Numerous little lights blinked and cameras swiveled at them curiously. The Princess ignored this.

“What in the hells are you doing here?” he asked her.

“I came for you, you complete nerf ,” she whispered back, eyes narrowed. “When you decided to go haring off to Bespin to find Captain Solo and his friend, I was told to go and save your reckless carcass!”

“You really thought you couldn’t be touched here, Veers?” the swarthy Rebel sneered in his face, breath foul, and long scraggly stubble brushing his cheek. “All safe and secure in your lofty starship? Well. I’m so very glad to disabuse you of that illusion.”

Veers glared at him, but he wouldn’t have responded even if he hadn’t been tightly gagged. There was no point in arguing with scum like this.

And he was looking forward to having words with whoever had been lax enough to let these Huttsuckers get their hands on Imperial uniforms.

They’d jumped him here in his office and if he wasn’t already so Force damned tired, he would have noticed the disparities in their appearance, such as this unshaven kriffer, in time.

Instead they’d hit him with a taser shot before they’d piled on.

His muscles jerked in agony and nothing was obeying him…

By the time his scattered brain had managed to lodge itself once again in his head, they’d securely bound him to his own desk chair, cuffing his wrists and ankles and winding elastic transport bands about his chest and around his knees.