Corellia

Carrying a tray of drinks, Liana walked over to the table where the regular sat staring forlornly into an empty glass.

"Can I get you another?" she asked him quietly. He looked up in surprise, obviously not expecting to be interrupted.

"No, thanks. I should be going." He handed her the credits to cover his drinks and sighed, then turned and walked out. She watched him for a moment, before moving on to her next table. He carried a certain air of dignity about him, despite his somewhat dusty local clothing. She absently set the drinks before her customers, still dwelling on The Regular. She didn't know his name or where he came from-but by his slight accent he wasn't a native. She'd often wondered what his story was-he always seemed so lonely. She wondered if coming here was the only contact he had with other humans.

<><><>

"The usual?" she asked when he returned the next evening. He nodded absently and she set up the glass of ale before him. He glanced up at her, blue-gray eyes boring into her soul. It was the first time he'd met her eyes and she was compelled by his piercing gaze, the loneliness there.

"Feel like some company?" she asked him. "My shift's done about now." He nodded after a moment's thought and she slid into the chair across from him.

"Don't talk much, do you?" she asked, taking her drink and handing her tray off to her replacement, who'd agreed to cover for her. He shook his head in response to her question and sipped his drink.

"I'm Wil," he told her after a moment. His voice was confident with an air of authority and sent a shiver down her spine this time.

"Liana," she told him.

"A beautiful name," he told her, and she blushed. She glanced at her drink and set the glass aside. Best to keep her wits about her, with this one.

"So what's your story?" she asked him. He smiled thinly.

"My dear, you don't want to hear it."

"Try me," she answered with a smile. "Believe me, I've heard a lot of stories, in my line of work."

"You don't recognize me, do you?" It was not meant as a question. She shook her head.

"Should I?"

"Perhaps not. I don't imagine there's been much talk of me in the past few years," he said sadly. She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "My full name is Wilhuff Tarkin," he told her, and she blinked in surprise. Now that she was looking she could see traces of the old Tarkin in him. It was that air of authority she'd noticed before, the accented voice, the gray-blue eyes that so captivated her. One of the terrors of the Empire, and he was sitting across from her! In her bar! She'd served him drinks every day for… she counted back the years. He must have started coming here as soon as he'd arrived on Corellia-it had almost been six years. Five and a half, easily.

He must have seen the sudden recognition in her eyes when he'd said his name, for he smiled.

"Heard of me?"

"Who hasn't?" she asked him. "Alderaan…" he flinched visibly at the name. The sight seemed odd, somehow.

"The Butcher of Alderaan, they call me. I've heard the term." His voice was quiet.

"The New Republic has certainly made no secret of your order to destroy it," she told him, feeling ill. Alderaan had been her home world… she had been off world during it's destruction and come home to find debris where her world had once been. She had thought that she would hate this man if she ever met him, thought she'd want to wring his neck with her bare hands. To her surprise, though, she found that she couldn't hate him. He'd been watching her face during the brief pause and nodded, almost to himself.

"You are Alderaanian," he realized. She nodded.

"You're very perceptive, Governor Tarkin," she acknowledged. She sighed. "I've often wondered what demons haunted you."

"Now you know… it is your people, Liana. It is an image I cannot erase from my mind. It… it is why I have not rejoined the Empire."

"You're starting to talk as though you'd be willing to join the Rebellion," she teased, hoping to wrench a smile out of him.

"And take more lives? Those of my own people? Is that what you want of me, Liana of Alderaan?" his voice was bitter, and she sighed. He'd missed her intention completely.

"I want nothing of you, Governor. I was trying to make you smile. I've never seen you smile, you know," she told him. He blinked in obvious surprise, staring at her as though she'd gone mad.

"You have just been confronted with the Butcher of your world, and you are trying to make him smile?" his tone was curious. "How loyal are you to your world, Liana of Alderaan?"

"I love my world, and I miss my people and my family. But nothing can bring them back, Governor. Vader or the Emperor would certainly have given that order even if you had not… and probably killed you in the process for being weak." Impulsively she reached across the table and touched his hand. "I don't blame you, Wil-and I can't hate you." He met her eyes, then, but glanced back down into his empty glass. She dropped some credits onto the table-more than enough to cover his own drink, he noted, and reached again for his hand.

"Come on," she told him. "I've been cooped up in here all day. I need some fresh air." He let her lead the way, something, she noted, he was obviously not used to. Still holding his hand, she led him out the back door and ran, laughing, up a grassy hill not far from the back door and sat down on the other side. They were, he realized, suddenly in a new world entirely from the dimly lit bar. On the downward slope of the grassy hill, a river flowed through this part of the town he'd never seen before. He stared at her, seeing her for the first time not as his usual waitress, but as a living, breathing human-from Alderaan, no less!-who did not despise him for the things he'd done. The things he despised himself for.

He watched her now as she sat down on the grass, laughing, her long black hair glistening in the moonlight, the sounds of the city strangely muted as his ears rang with her laughter. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and he was rewarded with the sight of it, thick and rich, falling into place as she shook her head. He wanted to run his fingers through it, but did not move.

"This is my favorite place," she told him. "It reminds me…" she remembered who she was talking to and broke off, not wanting to offend him.

"Please go on," he told her, sitting down next to her. She smiled, and he was momentarily dazzled.

"It reminds me of the K'Tan river back home, where I used to play as a child."

"Dreaming of a knight in shining armor?" he questioned, eyebrow raised. He was *teasing* her! Smiling, she nodded.

"I always thought it strange," she said, her tone a bit… odd. "My imagined knight… he looked like you," she told him. Tarkin was silent for a moment, then leaned in and kissed her, light-tentative- as though he wanted to see what she would do about it. Caught off- guard, she did not immediately respond. Then, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and returned his kiss, urging him closer. Her mouth opened under his and she moaned, returning his kiss. It was a long moment before he pulled back to look at her, her lips still parted and her eyes half closed. She smiled.

"That was nice," she told him as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Come back to my rooms, Liana," he pleaded. She smiled.

"I'd like that, Wil."

<><><>

Liana opened her eyes when the sunlight began to stream in through the window, and for the first morning in a long time, smiled. She felt content, at peace, even next to a man she barely knew. She smiled at the irony as she trailed a finger over Wil's cheek while he slept. If someone had told her a week ago that she'd be lying next to Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin, the Butcher of Alderaan, this morning, she would have laughed in their face. But here she was, Tarkin asleep beside her, and she was perfectly happy. She trailed a finger up his strong chest and was rewarded with a grunt. To her delight, she had discovered last night that the great Tarkin was ticklish.

"Good morning," she murmured. He grunted and opened his eyes to see her leaning over him.

"Good morning," he returned, pulling her down for a kiss. She enjoyed the taste of him for a long moment before pulling back. She smiled, but was surprised to see Wil's face serious.

"Liana…stay with me," he pleaded softly. I want to be your knight in real life," he told her. "Come with me, away from here. We'll find some place that's out of the way, away from the Rebellion and the Empire, from all this death. Please," he whispered. Staring into his eyes, she realized he was serious, and nodded.

"I'll go with you, my Knight," she told him. They kissed, sealing their promise forever.

~Finis~