Author's Note: I am very grateful to everyone who is taking the time to read, especially comment and vote! If you have any tips writing tips, please feel free to comment.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

Mandalorian (Mando'a) words

Kotyc (koh-TEESH): strong

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Chapter 9

Hearts see what blinds the eye.

Old Tochinite proverb, generally given as advice prior to an arranged marriage

Location Unkown, Unknown Days ABG

The blackness of a hood came over Arlesse's face, threatening to suffocate her. She tried to get her hands on her head and remove the smoothing material, but the paralyzing pain of a stun blaster tore into her skin. She fell helplessly against the grip of unfamiliar hands.

A jolt in her neck that felt like pure agony caused her to awaken from her unconsciousness, and she released a tortured scream, forcing her to open her eyes. 

Trying to see through the remnants of a painful haze, she lifted her head off the cold, steel floor and saw there was a droid before her. 

Arlesse had no idea how much time had passed between the stun blast that had rendered her unconscious and the pain that had awakened her. She just knew that she was no longer in familiar and comfortable territory.

Blinking hard, her eyes focused on the droid. It was thinner than a standard R2 unit, only about half the width of the R2 series. It stood about three feet tall, and was painted black with accents in deep red as though it was made to look like some incarnation from one of the droid hells.

Arlesee would have expected to see mechanical tools or other helpful devices protrude from this droid; however, this small, mechanical monster didn't wield anything that was remote friendly. 

Instead of tools like a normal R2 unit would use, this one had been modified with vibroknives, electrical probes, a small burning laser, and a syringe that was filled with a light gray liquid.

As Arlesse's eyes focused more clearly, she saw that one of the electric probes was still aimed at her, threatening to release its painful shock again.

Arlesse tried to back from the droid, to distance herself from that weapon of agony, but the cold, hard surface of a metal wall blocked her. 

She glanced around the room and found that it was no greater than a small bedroom and saw that there were no windows or decorations. It was simply a four-walled metal room. 

There was barely enough space for a bed, but no luxury was supplied.

Suddenly, a middle-aged man entered the small room. His head and the rest of him were covered in black wrappings to conceal the true size of his body mass. A burn scar crossed his face from his left temple to the center of his chin, seeming to split his lower lip in half.

 Arlesse also noticed that his nose sat crookedly, and she could guess that it was a sign that it had been broken numerous times. She felt herself flinch as she looked to his ice-green iris. They were set deep in his sockets, and there was no trace of kindness to be found in them.

Arlesse forced her eyes away from those cold, jaded eyes and found herself instead looking at the pair of white wrist gauntlets that he wore over the black wrapping on his arms. 

The stark contrast of the white on black seemed odd on him, and it gave the impression that he some evil, mummified warrior out of a horror holovid.

"Easy, TaK," the wrapped man said, putting a hand gently onto the droid's top. "They didn't give us the okay yet to do any damage."

The droid whirred a motor in some kind of reply, and it sounded like a rabid rancor that was angry for being denied its mean, but it lowered its devices anyway.

The man gave his attention now to his prey. "I've been paid to detain you, young princess," he explained. "I'll only harm you if you try to escape, and then I'll sic TaK - otherwise known as Torture and Kill - on you if you try anything you know you're not supposed to do."

Arlesse noticed that his voice was soft-spoken despite his terrorizing appearance, but that didn't give her any reassurance.

 Instead, it frightened her even more. She didn't trust him, no matter how kind he might try to act.

 He made it very clear that he was just waiting for permission to harm her, and that he took great care to see his victims helpless.

"What do you want?" Arlesse asked, unable to hide the fear in her voice. She knew it wouldn't take much get her to break down and cry. 

Unlike her cousin, Duchess Janelle Napith, Arlesse had none of the fortitude and attitude that a woman in her high-ranked position should be capable of exuding. 

Arlesse was grateful that her father allowed her the preference of spending her days away from the politics of a monarchical society. She enjoyed spending her time reading through a flimsiplast novel in the gardens instead of attending the court theatrics. 

The court consisted mainly of middle-aged men and women arguing about the territorial rights and monetary restraints anyway. Arlesse was quite pleased that Janelle had taken the steps to become the next rightful monarch. 

Having to constantly and quickly find ways to deal with so many angry leaders was something that Arlesse was glad to live without.

"Right now I only get paid if I keep you unharmed," he said, breaking Arlesse from her moment of reflection. "Should they change their minds..." He let the sentence hang purposefully, allowing a dark smirk to slowly spread across his face while he patted his droid as though it was his loving pet.

His sinister teasing caused Arlesse to visibly flinch closer to the wall from the man she presumed had to be some crazed prison escapee. She didn't know of anyone who would want to harm her. 

No one seemed to even look in her direction most of the time unless her father or Janelle had specifically brought someone to her for a conversation. And, it didn't seem likely that someone would want to harm her if they didn't even know her.

Taking a shaky breath, Arlesse felt her eyes stare at this dangerous person, afraid that if she blinked, he'd take the opportunity to do something that would scar her forever.

"You're not that spirited, are you?" he asked. "I thought all you royal types had spunk in you."

Arlesse couldn't think of anything to say to that. She was never a good with verbal ammunition, and it was one of the reasons why she took her father's advice and avoided political views of the royal court. 

In order to compete with the issues of the monarchy, she would have needed to be quick-tongued and balanced. One-liners and comebacks were skills she never inherited from her parents or learned from her peers. 

Janelle, though, was a natural at that, easily sparring with words amongst the leaders of Tochin like it was normal conversation.

Arlesse's captor laughed suddenly, breaking her from her thoughts again.

"You're not much of a leader, are you?" he now teased, kneeling on the floor before her. "You're a very easy girl to read. Daddy makes sure you don't want for anything. You've got no fight or spunk in you, and frankly, I've seen some prettier girls in slave houses.... girls twice your age."

Arlesse felt the sting in her eyes, and her bottom lip quivered on the brink of tears. He had no right to know so much about her without having ever met her. He had no right to insult her father for loving and caring for her. 

And, least of all, she knew she wasn't pretty, as her face was more round that it was oval. Her hair was a brown that was usual and plain coloring, it did little to attract any attention. Her hair was spun in naturally tight spirals, and to her they always felt knotted. 

It seemed to take the maid forever to tame the wild hair, and it often required a lot of patience just to get the curls brushed. 

Arlesse also knew that her blue eyes had to look odd against her dark hair, and she never thought her irises were even an attractive shade of blue.

 Instead of an ocean, hers were grayer, like the sky on a day with a thin layer of clouds dulling the bright blue of the sky.

Arlesse knew that her cousin had been endowed in so many ways. Janelle was a green-eyed blonde with loose curls whose heart-shaped face framed a tall, shapely body. 

Every man in court stared at Duchess Janelle, and her charisma attracted everyone's attention. No one thought much of Princess Arlesse, except to respect her for her position.

"Well, you're not overweight," the man observed, bringing Arlesse's thoughts back to her situation. "You were light enough to carry without straining myself."

Arlesse swiped away a tear from her cheek that had slipped free, feeling the emotional pain that his insults created. She knew he was teasing her to make her upset, and his hurtful words made her vulnerable, allowing her to fall for his game.

Reaching a hand out, he suddenly took hold of her necklace. Arlesse tried to bring her hand up to stop him, but he easily caught her wrist and gave it a painful squeeze. He twisted her arm with little effort, taking satisfaction in the way she flinched.

"Interesting piece," the mercenary noted as he turned the pendant between his fingers. He used the tip of his gloved thumb to touch upon each of the seven points on the star-shaped locket as though looking for how to open it. 

However, his interest there was short-lived as his eyes dropped toward the collar of Arlesse's dress, noting how the material hugged modestly to the average-sized curvature of her chest. "Well, at least you weren't short-changed there. I've seen less fortunate."

It took Arlesse a moment to realize that he wasn't talking about her necklace anymore, and he was noticing the parts of her that made her a woman. She felt another tear slip free, both from the pain in her wrist and the humility of being observed in such a way by this frightening man.

Letting her go, the wrapped man sighed with dark thoughts while he took a long inventory of her. "Too bad I can't really see what you have to offer. There's a saying about jewels in the rough. Maybe if my employers change their minds, I could open up the pretty wrapping and really see what's inside."

Arlesse wiped away the tears that fell free and pulled herself closer to her body, trying to cover herself more.

"In the meantime, I have other ways to keep occupied." He smiled with wicked intent. "My employers knew I'd get bored after a short while with not being able to do anything to you so they found me a real life clone trooper to keep me entertained. I'm slowly removing his armor one piece at a time."

Arlesse then understood the gauntlets and how he acquired them.

"Want to help me dissect him?" the mercenary asked, not bothering to suppress the bloodlust in his eyes.

Arlesse curled herself tighter into a ball and shook her head. "You're a monster."

"Monster?" he laughed, thoroughly amused by her innocence. "Sweetheart, you need to upgrade your language. I'm a murderous bastard."

As if on cue, a small door slid open and a clone trooper fell forward onto his knees, the results of having been pushed through the door. 

His arms were bound behind his back, and his ankles were shackled so he couldn't run. The clone's face had suffered multiple bruises and had dried blood from cuts that were trying to heal.

Arlesse took a shuddering breath, and her voice was hoarse from the tight lump that formed there. Her tears slowly rolled down her cheeks, as she understood her captor's intentions of keeping himself occupied. "He didn't deserve..."

The wrapped man touched her cheek usually gently with the back of his gloved hand. Arlesse realized that this horrible being was offering her a twisted version of compassion before he was going to take maniacal enjoyment in harming the clone.

"It's just a little fun, princess," the man cooed, as he interrupted her. "He's only a clone. There's millions to replace him."

Arlesse forced herself to scramble tighter into her corner, trying to get as far from this madman as she possibly could. She had never seen a clone before and as far as she was concerned, he was a man like any other she had ever met. 

It didn't matter if he was replicated into an army. She saw life in the soldier's dark eyes and that meant he didn't deserve to be tortured at the hands of some murderous and insane criminal.

"Don't," she whispered to her captor, he words broken with fear, "please don't."

The mercenary now turned to the clone, and his voice was full of amusement. "Hear that?" he asked, slapping the trooper on his shoulder like they were old friends. "Someone in the galaxy actually has some compassion for your kind."

The clone looked to Arlesse, and his dark eyes seemed to be showing gratitude for her attempt to save him.

"Be kotyc," he told her. "Don't lose hope yet."

Arlesse didn't entirely understand what he said, but the accent in his voice had grasped her attention. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before, and it had the power to settle her fears for a few seconds. 

For a moment, she knew she was no longer alone and that the trooper would do what he could to delay the crazy man from touching her.

However, the moment of security suddenly passed as the mercenary's fist came across the soldier's face.

Arlesse gasped audibly at the sound of a glove harshly smashing into facial skin and the sound of the cloned man's pained groan.

"Scream all you want, Clone, but no talking," the madman ordered. waving his ever droid closer, the man them smiled with satisfaction. "TaK, let's dissect."

The droid seemed to happily obey its master's commands and rolled itself toward the two men. Arlesse saw torturous instruments that were hanging from the droid's compartments, and the little mechanical beast raised them toward the clone.

The trooper tried to fight against his restraints, and Arlesse caught the sudden but quick flash of fear that passed in his irises.

The black wrapped man took one of the shoulder plates and removed it from the clone. The droid turned on the vibroblade, and the quiet hum of it echoed loudly in the small chamber. 

Arlesse watched in horror as the vibroblade cut into the soldier's shoulder. He struggled against his primal instinct to scream at the pain he tried to endure.

 Arlesse could only uselessly close her eyes, cover her ears, and release the tears she could no longer hold within her.

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