Home Fiction Adult Fiction Art Mail List Staff Links

Solo Flight
The fourth Tale of Miklinar
NC-17

The Star Wars movies, their universe, concepts, and characters are the property of George Lucas and whomever else he has licensed. My characters and concepts, unless otherwise noted, are my property. In case of dispute, Lucas wins, no argument. There is no money being made on this story.

Miklinar was loitering in the bar. His next client wasn't to arrive for two hours, and Mikli was conserving his strength. "That one wants me to pretend to be the Old Man." You looked at his slight figure dubiously. He grinned. "Don't believe it, do you. Illusions are my stock in trade. A costume, the right sound effects... You also have to remember that the real thing would scare most of my clients off. I'm the harmless version."

"Does he mind?" someone asked.

"He finds it amusing. He loaned me a set of his old armor." A raised eyebrow. "No? Perhaps I'll show you some other time. Or be cautious when next you see him -- it might not be."

Laughter around the room. Miklinar sipped at his drink -- blue and foamy this time. "I have time for another story, if you like. I call this one 'Solo Flight.'

"It starts with a conversation between Lord Vader and Garn Anthru."

Solo Flight
by Miklinar

     Garn, "Someone made a pass at me today."

     "Did you accept?"

     "Of course not!"

     Vader sat back. "Imperial or Sith?"

     "Does it matter?"

     "With our own people you're at no risk. An Imperial... if you trust him, you might choose to risk it. Of course, an Imperial officer will be assuming that you're another male."

     "Imperial. I told him that at this point in my training I was 'dedicated.'" She used a Sith word that could also mean "consecrated." "No hurt feelings. I like him, but I'm not interested in a male who's mind-mute. I've got better here."

     "If you can't get a child off of me, you have to settle for one from someone else."

     "My child is my heir, no matter the father?"

     "Of course. Unless you name another heir."

     "I have a simple solution, then -- I'll pick five or six likely men from the pilots' barracks, get drunk, and offer myself."

     "Why drunk?" The number of partners didn't seem to bother him.

     "So the blankness won't hurt. I can't do it sober, love. Drunk, drugged, asleep... or in vitro. That would work. But I have years before I worry about it."

     Very quietly, very gently, "Who asked?"

     "Your education officer, Captain Lowiteng."

     Vader nodded. "He's impressed with you. On fact, I've got an appointment with him to discuss your career in half an hour. I think he would keep your confidences. You could do worse than having a few drinks with him."

     She shook her head. "The interest just isn't there."

     "Very well. You have until age thirty to produce an heir, before I become insistent."

     Garn thought it over. "Worst case -- I'll use the samples my mother sent me."

     "Acceptable." Garn felt the touch of a bare hand against her cheek. "Don't punish yourself by staying away from a man you want. I don't own you."

     "In that, no one owns me. But I am content with the lover I have."

     A long, unmeasured moment of wordless comfort. It was broken by the door annunciator. "Yes?"

     Not Captain Lowiteng but Admiral Wychulis. "My lord. May I have a minute?"

     "Certainly. Lieutenant, offer the Admiral... excellent." Garn already had a tray with a drink and some nibbles at the Admiral's elbow. "You've returned from the Rim?"

     "Recalled. I acted too independently for the tastes of a regional governor."

     Vader nodded. "I understand. I, too, have had difficulties with local authorities."

     "Certainly not to their benefit." Wychulis swallowed half his drink and Garn freshened it. "This boy's the prodigy everyone's talking about? Your lover?"

     "My apprentice and adopted son," Vader rumbled.

     "Which doesn't preclude the other. Lord Anthru, isn't it?"

     "Lieutenant Anthru, here, sir."

     The admiral turned back to Vader. "Where did you recruit him from, my lord? You mentioned, once, that Elia Sethon had a child. Is this the boy?"

     "Elia had a daughter. She and the child are both dead."

     "A pity. The daughter might be just what you need for him... Or do you prefer other men, Lieutenant?"

     "I don't hunt right now, sir -- I'm too busy with my duties."

     "Just curious -- no offense meant. Lord Vader, he's a Jedi. Under your hand."

     "I detected his use of the Force while he was one of my pilots. I've taken over his training. And the Emperor has confirmed him as my heir." Vader added, "He serves the Emperor, as I do."

     A very neutral "Ah."

     The door again. "Yes?"

     "Lowiteng, my lord. We had an ..." The door opened and the captain walked in. He stopped as he saw the admiral. "Admiral. My lord. Am I interrupting?"

     "Not at all. I've been waiting for you. Sit." Garn provided another chair, excused herself. Vader noted that the intercom button pushed itself once Garn had left. An eavesdropper. Vader left the intercom on. "Now -- your report."

     "He's no mathematician. And he's wasted as a pilot, but I understand why you want him qualified."

     Softly, "What do you mean, 'wasted?' I trust there are areas where he will be of some use?"

     The admiral held his breath. If this education officer were a fool and gave an inaccurate report on Vader's pet... "My lord, can you get me a hundred like him?" The admiral exhaled, and Vader imagined he heard a similar release from the inner room. "You specified 'unlimited line.' He's blitzed through every text used by the war college, and is halfway through the ones from the staff college. He sees patterns in things -- Analysis wants a dozen of him. Not an engineer -- he's merely adequate as a mechanic. I didn't let crypto near him."

     "Good. What else?"

     "He has a background in politics and economics that's only usual in a third or fourth generation politicial. What lab cooked him up? He's not your clone -- your talents don't overlap that much."

     "He doesn't know who his parents are. But his scores are enough." Raising his voice, "Lieutenant?"

     Garn, back into the office, "Yes, my lord?"

     "What do you think you do best?" Almost causally, as if talking to a teenager about his hobbies.

     "I am your apprentice, my lord." Nothing more.

     Wychulis, "Was that an answer?"

     "Of sorts. Garn -- your dearest desire."

     Garn paused, obviously editing for the others present. "To be a Jedi knight, like my master. To start a line of Jedi, using the Force as it should be used. To ward chaos off from the Empire." Pause. "To serve."

     Wychulis, softly, "And what did you leave out? Sex? Power? Wealth?"

     Vader, "If he saw himself the Emperor's logical successor thirty years from now, dare he say so? The Emperor, hearing of it, might fear him impatient. And wealth he already has, as my heir. It doesn't drive him."

     Wychulis nodded. "Just so. But the other? Lieutenant, there is a rumor that you are Lord Vader's lover."

     "I've heard the rumors."

     "And?"

     "It is not my place to answer." Two deep breaths, "Isn't it obvious? So little of a Jedi is his physical body. Where he touches me ..."

     Lowiteng looked frustrated. Even if Garn weren't "dedicated," how could a mere human compete with that? Wychulis shook his head, "Jedi gibberish."

     An evil smirk on Garn's face. "Is it? Let me show you, Admiral."

     The first touch before Vader's hand came up, "Garn, no." Mild arousal, scarcely noticeable. A hasty change of subject, "Captain, what will you train him in next?"

     "That's my problem. He's past the texts on everything but engineering, and we've stalled out there. Put him to work, instead of in school. Let Analysis use him in the morning, then teach him yourself the rest of the times. He's diffident enough, the other officers don't mind his presence. Not like some young twits that think their 'genius' is more valuable than any experience of their seniors."

     "Is he too friendly, perhaps? I've heard that more than friendship has been offered him."

     Captain Lowiteng didn't even flinch. "I asked, he gently refused. I won't pursue the matter."

     Was that a grin in Vader's voice? "I thought your tastes were different, Captain."

     "They are. He's compelling -- as you are in some ways."

     The Admiral choked on his drink, and the subject was dropped in the small chaos of regaining breath and dignity.

     An hour each evening with a different department. "Are you getting enough sleep at night?"

     "Two hours of deep meditation, four hour of sleep. I got less in medic school."

     Garn's "deep meditation" took him so far out of his body Vader was mildly concerned. "Did you ever find out where you go?"

     "Someone asks me a question, I meditate and sleep, and often enough I have the answer the next day. It's like I plug into a gigantic library computer bank somewhere, dipping and skimming the pool of information."

     Thoughtfully, "Perhaps you're too useful -- you're conspicuous."

     "Ah. Time to tone it down. A pity -- I enjoy the work. If this is my work. Is it? Or are you just letting me play?"

     "Here and now, it is your work, while you're learning mine."

     "I don't want your job!"

     "I understand. But I won't live forever, and you are my successor, my heir. You will be system viceroy for the Sith. You might become Emperor."

     "Oh?"

     "I can't succeed him -- I'm feared and hated by the bureaucrats, by some of the military. But you..."

     Garn was at Analysis when the call came in. "Lord Vader says you are to report to him at once -- his office."

     Mentally, "My lord? Problems?"

     Return, "Immediate, but not emergency."

     "Ah. On my way."

     A good fast jog. Garn paused barely to catch his breath before the door opened. "My lord?"

     "I have orders here for a short mission, which I'm to execute alone. I'll be gone less than a week. You're to handle the routine work of this office, hold on anything not routine. You may contact me if the matter is an emergency..." The implication was clear -- it better be an Emergency. "Do you understand?"

     "Yes, my lord."

     "Very good." There were others present. The great gloved hand reached out and touched Garn's forehead. Silently, "Only a week. You'll manage."

     "Can't I come with you?"

     "Orders -- from him. Be careful -- this might be a test."

     Routine work, but so much of it, as if the report writers knew Vader was gone. Two files were marked for Vader's review. Garn pushed back her chair and sagged. Tension and weariness warred.

     Door annunciator. "Come." A figure in a dark uniform, with a covered tray. "Yes?"

     Lieutenant Cresidante, one of the Sith pilots. "The computer says you haven't eaten all day. And wine and company will do you some good, too."

     "Thank you, Lieutenant. Will you join me?"

     "I've eaten, thank you." The lieutenant moved behind Garn and began to knead her shoulders.

     "That feels wonderful. I didn't realize I was so knotted up."

     "Relax, my lord. Let me work." Cresidante dug fingers deep into Garn's muscles. "I could do you more good if you stretched out."

     "If I stretch out, I'll fall asleep."

     "Good. You need to."

     "And waste the wine and the company?"

     "If needs be. If you need the sleep more." Cresidante tugged at Garn's shoulders. "Up with you into your room, onto your bed. We'll see."

     Garn went through her room into the 'fresher, returned in a black robe. She laid on her bed, face down. "Go ahead."

     Deep massage. Garn was half asleep when Cresidante asked softly, "Is Lord Vader your only lover?"

     "He's my life."

     Soft strokes as well as deep. "Are all of your lovers men?"

     Sleepily, "Yes. I wouldn't know what to do with a woman."

     "Let me show you." Cresidante gently rolled Garn over onto her back. The lieutenant had shed her own uniform. She leaned close to Garn, and Garn took her in her arms.

     The cuddling was comfortable, not arousing. Garn happily exchanged kisses with the warm armful she had, but wasn't going any further. Cresidante's hands on her breasts and along the inside of her thighs made her sigh and relax, not get excited. "Are you that tired, dear?"

     "I'm afraid so. I'm sorry I'm not any good right now."

     A kiss on the cheek. "Sleep. We'll have time later." Cresidante held Garn while Garn slept, only for an hour or so. Then Garn stirred. "It's alright. I'm here."

     "Love, I had the strangest... dream." Garn stopped. "No dream."

     "No dream. I won't betray you, my lord."

     "How would you dare? I remember your rubbing my shoulders. Did I invite you into my bed?"

     "I suggested you stretch out. You changed into a robe, stretched out on your bed -- didn't object when I kissed you."

     Garn smiled, "Weren't you expecting me to be male?"

     Cresidante thought about it. "I wasn't expecting, either way. Either would have been acceptable for me. And you needed the food, the massage, and the company."

     "What about the wine?"

     "If the massage didn't work, or you didn't want me to touch you. I wasn't assuming you'd let me seduce you."

     "You haven't seduced me. What we've done is inconsequent...oh, my. That's nice."

     "Still inconsequential?"

     "Not now. Show me what you did." Lessons. Garn found that her new lover responded as well as her ordinary lovers ever had, but Garn never quite reached the edge. "I'm sorry. You're pleasant to hold, but either I'm still too tired, or my body's been trained for something else."

     Cresidante shook her head. "I don't know what he does, how he touches you. Are you physically lovers at all? Or is it all in here?" She kissed Garn on the forehead.

     "I can't discuss that. I'm sorry."

     "I understand. Let's see what I can do. There's always the prosthetic approach."

     "What?"

     "Toys -- either in the hand or strapped on. Or if you need a real male to respond to, I could make a comm call."

     A faint snort, "To one of your other lovers?"

     "As it happens, yes. But he's been working up the courage to approach you. May I give him a 'go'?"

     Garn shook her head gently. "I don't think it will do any good. My mind's elsewhere, with him."

     "I see. May I use your computer console? And a pair of your pilot's gloves?"

     An odd combination. The gloves were handed over, and Cresidante worked at the computer for a minute. "Alright, on your back, bed center, lights out. Program one, level zero."

     The mechanical breathing, glow from the instruments lighting armor and mask. "Please -- don't use your full perceptions." The gloves on her were almost right. Garn started to respond, but then reached up to touch the mask. Her hand went through and she lost the mood.

     "No. Shut it off."

     "Program off. Lights on, slowly, dim. I'm sorry, my lord. For a moment there, it was working." A quirky, half-grin. "What you have with him is at least part physical. You responded wonderfully well to the sound of him." Cresidante nodded, "Let's see what Lieutenant Tanut can do for you. Computer, locate Tanut, have him report to Lord Anthru's office in flight gear."

     Computer, "Lieutenant Tanut is asleep, with a request that he not be disturbed. What priority code?"

     "Priority unofficial, CR two."

     "That priority is accepted."

     "Excellent. Announce when he's close." To Garn, "CR one would mean I had an emergency. CR two... we set up, earlier."

     "Then he won't mind your waking him?"

     "For you, no. I happened to get the first chance at you -- or he might have been calling me."

     Computer, "Lieutenant Tanut has entered Medical."

     "Thank you. Comm off."

     Garn's eyebrow rose. "That fast?"

     "That eager." Cresidante drew a robe around herself. "Wait here. Lights out. Program two, level zero, hold." Cresidante went into Garn's office, had a short conference, brought someone else in. "Program start."

     The weight on the bed, the feel of the flight suit, the sound effects... Garn responded almost feverishly. The arching of her back nearly threw him off of her. "Damn. Garn, we need your consent. to continue. This isn't Lord Vader. Garn, can you hear me?"

     Almost a gasp, "Yes. Tanut, not ... Lord Vader. Yes." Her hands reached down to guide him. Tanut felt himself enlarge, not just to his best-of-record but beyond what he thought he could actually do. Her tightness was muscle tone, not inexperience. Three massive jolts ripped through Garn's body, from everything Cresidante had tried to bring her off. Not long after her third, Tanut let go, and his withdrawal triggered another jolt. "Program off."

     Garn lay exhausted, with Cresidante holding her. Tanut stripped off the flight suit and helmet, slipped into bed on the other side of Garn. Garn rolled to turn her back on him, but wriggled closer.

     "Well, Tan?"

     "Hm. Well, we know one thing -- he's physically her lover. That response would be too much for someone of less mass to handle, and..."

     "And what?"

     "She changed me, to fit her tastes.This is strange. Even limp, I'm bigger than I was. Garn, make me the size I was."

     "Not done."

     "What? Please don't tell me you can't!"

     Cresidante giggled, "Restore him, if you're done with him. We were only trying to find your preferences, to pleasure you."

     "Are you sure? Don't you want to try him out this way yourself first?" Garn slid onto her back, looking at both of them. "Lights very dim." Barely enough light for the others to see. "Thank you -- both of you."

     "You're welcome," Tanut answered. "Do you always go through those convulsions?"

     "If I've given up control, whether someone else picks up the control or not. Crez, I'm sorry that I couldn't respond to just you."

     "I have no complaints on your performance."

     Garn smiled, "Thank you. An inexperienced partner."

     Cresidante shook her head. "One of your partners must have made love like a woman. A sensualist. He liked you to touch him as much as he liked touching."

     Garn closed her eyes, remembering. "How does a so-called 'normal' act, then?"

     "Well, dead normal, the ones you and I don't have to put up with, grab your breasts and your crotch until they're ready, and then they jump on. Gentlemen like Tan here," she patted him on the hip, "plays with her until she's ready. But even he gets impatient sometimes. The gem you apparently had will let you touch him, for as long as you like. Do you ever spend the entire time stroking and petting, and never get to the poking at all?"

     "When he was tired. He liked my hands on him. There was no urgency. I'm the one who wanted to ride."

     Tan, "Is Lord Vader your lover?"

     "I've already said too much. Tan, if you want to go back to your usual size, I'll take care of it. But you might consider not."

     Tanut shook his head. "I was adequate as I was. If I stay like this, I'll have to have the plumbing on my flight-suit changed, and, even though the change would only take half an hour, I don't need weeks of jokes about prosthetics and enhancement surgery."

     "I see. Very well." The work of half a minute or so. "Satisfactory?"

     "Yes. The other was... interesting. You changed me so casually."

     "Jedi tricks. My height, my lord's height and mass."

     Cresidante, "Does... that's absurd. Of course Lord Vader knows you're female." A sudden thought, "Under the suit ... Tan, do we know for sure he's male?"

     "Has to be. Or you wouldn't have needed my help with Garn."

     A little more snuggling. "Will you be alright?"

     "Yes. You're leaving?"

     "Flight first thing tomorrow. Tan and I both have to leave." A touch on Garn's cheek. "You're not used to sleeping alone."

     "No."

     "May we come back?"

     "I... don't think it's a good idea."

     "Oh?"

     "Right now I can't handle extra emotional attachments. And even if it's only physical now, it would become emotional."

     "It's not only physical now for me. And that's my problem."

     Garn looked over at Tan. "And you?"

     "A little. But there's no way I want to be in direct competition with him."

     Vader returned about two hundred. Garn was asleep in her own bed, after another massage by Cresidante. Garn stirred, not at a noise, but at a perception. "My lord?"

     "It's alright. Sleep, love." His hand stroked her hair. Her eyes opened and she smiled. She turned her head and kissed his hand. "You missed me."

     "Of course. There were times during the day when I as too busy to notice, but at night...You're damned right I missed you."

     "Anything notable happen while I was gone?"

     Silence, worrying him. Then a faint smile, "I let myself get seduced."

     "Ah. Lowiteng?"

     "No. Cresidante."

     "Fascinating." He sat one the edge of the bed. "Tell me about it."

Miklinar finished his story (and his drink) just as his commlink chimed. "Time to go and prep for my client." He leaned over and kissed the barkeep on her cheek. "The next story is the one you've been pestering me about," smiling to take the sting out. "It's called 'Luke'."

Home Fiction Adult Fiction Art Mail List Staff Links