For the past three hours, Marta had been staring at the pattern of the bedroom ceiling- his bedroom ceiling. It was not that the bedroom ceiling was particularly interesting, or that the pattern was unusual enough to warrant three hours’ worth of meditation. It was simply that she did not have much choice what to look at, being chained to the bed.

It would have been nicer, she thought in frustration, if they had at least given her two separate handcuffs so that her arms might be able to stretch out nicely. But no, they had gone and cuffed her wrists together before locking her onto the bedpost. She could bend her elbows a little so that her arms were not covering her ears, but other than that, it was not exactly the most comfortable position.

She wondered idly how much time had gone by since she came here. They had taken her at dusk, when she had retired to her evening robes. Marta had been settling into her chamber, hoping to forget the events of the day. The day that she would rather not have happened. The day that had given Chancellor Palpatine the unimpeded rule of Emperor.

She could hear, even through the muted walls of the palace of the Galactic Senate, the sounds of the celebrating below. Palpatine and his minions, she thought, a feeling of cold disgust washing over her. A man she had known since she was a tot, crawling around on four limbs. A senator who had deceived them all with his charming machinations. It was enough to make her stomach churn.

And why, (she thought for the thousandth time that night, letting out a scream she knew no one would hear), am I tied to this man’s bed?

She tried to lift herself, futilely, off the sheets. She had been fighting her handcuffs for hours and now her wrists were red and raw with the effort. She felt more exhausted and drained than she could ever remember being.

When, she wondered, had her world turned upside down? Was it when the Jedi, her guardians, had been hacked to pieces by General Grievous, a man whose name was not even whispered in her circle? Was it when Palpatine had been handed unchecked power, or the day when he refused to give it back when the Wars reached their bloody end? Was it when they came for her tonight, and she went, stonefaced, because no one argued with clone troopers who were under the order of the Emperor, and if she escaped it would only be a matter of time before they found her? And now this. The Ultimate Humiliation. For she was undoubtedly in his room, although she had never seen it before. It oozed Palpatine, oh yes. She didn’t have to be Force sensitive to match the man to the room, this chamber of riches and chill. Her prison now. Was it better, she thought philisophically, to be a mote living in the bowels of the sarlaac, or to wait it until it inevitably reached out its tentacle to grab you and ended up there anyway?

And while she was wondering, she began trying to piece together the puzzle of how she had ended up there. Not the physical reason, but the theorectical. Marta had always tried to be rational, and she drew upon that now in this strange situation. Sighing, she tried to stretch her body a little. Somewhere in the room a window was open and she felt a breeze stir her hair on the pillows.

Of all the mysteries of the universe, the one she longed to know most was who she was. They called her the Orphan of Coruscant because she had been found on the steps outside the Galactic Senate. Nobody was quite sure why anyone would leave a baby there. The Jedi were eager to find out if she was intended to be one of them. Unfortunately, all they were able to determine after a series of tests was that she was able to rock back and forth and put her toes in her mouth.

Everyone was at their wit’s end until a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jin put forward the suggestion that she should be made a ward of the Temple. Jocasta Nu, the caretaker of the Jedi Temple Archives, agreed to see her upbringing.

From there, she may have slipped through the cracks of the city and be forgotten. But Marta had made a rather unusual distinction for herself at the age of six by memorizing Arca Jeth’s 21-volume History of the Republic. Soon after, she began working alongside her guardian at the Jedi Temple Archives where she was eventually surpassed only by Jocasta herself as the chief librarian.

It was often rumored that the true source of knowledge in the Empire could be found in a young woman, the caretaker of the wisdom of the ages. Having grown up alongside the Republic’s most famous leaders, politicians and Jedi, working with them never fazed her. Her keen wit and level headedness meant that she was often an unacknowledged consultant to the Republic’s greatest leaders - and their greatest secret-keeper. How could she not have been happy with this life? Coruscant was the hurricane of the universe, and she had been its eye.

That is, until Palpatine began his steady raid on the archives, banning books left and right, ordering papers to mysteriously go “missing,” restricting access and so on. She remembered the day, only three months ago, when she had dared to stand up to him. It had been the hardest decision she ever had to make, and she was terrified. This man whom she had once trusted, whom she had inadvertently helped rise to power, would not walk all over her.

She remembered ascending the curved stairs to the vast throne room. She had been allowed admittance, and her shoes practically burned holes in the floor as her eyes flashed fire at the man seated before her. Palpatine looked amused. Inside, she was seething with impotent rage and hostility. She laid out her case as firmly and rationally as she could manage, using the arguments she had been carefully preparing for weeks. What use would it be to destroy precious documents? Her voice was rising in anger. Who was he to dictate the fate of all those words?

He regarded her calmly as she berated him, her swept-up hair falling apart as her usual calmness crumbled before her. He sat with his hands folded until she had let off enough steam. Then spoke, his voice a soft void. “Are you aware, young lady, what the right sort of knowledge could be in the wrong sort of person?”

“And what right have you to decide what knowledge goes to which person?” she shot back.

“It is as I see fit.”

“Destroy the records, then,” she shot back. “But you can’t destroy the memory of those who know what’s in them.”

He stood up. “You are absolutely right. Thank you, my dear, for pointing out my folly. I now see how dangerous a person with knowledge is.”

Her jaw dropped. He sat complacently back in his chair. “You may go.”

With one last, contemptuous look, she turned on her heel and walked out, her head held high.

Now, lying on his bed, she wondered if perhaps he was going to dispose of her for her insolence. It was a strange way to do it. She wondered if that incident a few months ago had angered him. She tried to think about any other time she may have raised his ire, but that was the only thing that came to mind. Well, there was that incident when she was eighteen. She was invited to sit at the table of the heads of the senate. That day had been particularly memorable because she had tried to hard to make herself look attractive. It was probably the first time the senators had noticed she had breasts, and particularly nice ones at that.

Unfortunately, the evening had not gone well. Her attempts to remain calm and pleasant were dashed when she entered into a heated debate with the then-Senator Palpatine over the merits of freedom vs. duty. The entire table had gawked at her the whole time, but not for reasons she had been hoping. The dinner ended when Marta abruptly stood up and excused herself halfway through the last course. Fortunately, she had been entertaining enough that they asked her back many times after that. She had never, however, engaged in a debate like that again.

How long was this nonsense going to go on? Marta twisted around, to see that it was now long since past dusk. The familiar sounds of Coruscant swirled around outside, but it was all alien now.

At last, she heard voices and footsteps. Someone gave a command. She was embarrassed to realize that she was petrified, more scared than she had ever been in her whole life. Her heart began to beat strangely. But at last the interminable waiting was over. Her body began to shiver, just a bit.

After lying in the dark for so long, the light from the hall through the open door was almost blinding. He was alone, that much she knew. She could hear him breathing, the sound of his robes brushing against the floor. She tried to look as dignified as possible. He turned on a lamp on a nearby table, and soft light illuminated the room.

He spoke. “Ah, so you are here. I’m so pleased you could join me.”

She was determined not to speak. After her forced silence, she now realized the last thing she wanted to do was to open her mouth and give him the satisfaction. Instead, she fixed her expression into one of intense hatred.

He sat down on the bed next to her, and she could feel her body stiffen as if it were trying to stay as far away from him as possible.

“Are you comfortable?”

Glare. Silence. Breathing.

He laughed softly, and she hated him for it. “No, of course you’re not.” He produced a key, and she felt the handcuffs release her sore wrists. She sat up, feeling dizzy with it, and began to walk toward the door.

“I only released you. You do not have my permission to leave.”

She turned around, the expression of scorn still on her face. “Did you need my permission all those times I helped you in the archives?”

His eyes shone- with interest? “I am the Emperor now.”

“But you weren’t then. You were a senator just like everyone else.”

He was irritatingly unnerving, the way he never stopped holding her gaze. “And you were a little girl. And now you’re a-“ he looked her up and down “-woman. Things have changed.” He indicated the bed beside him. “Sit next to me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You will sit next to me,” he said again, and this time she felt her limbs moving without her consent.

Next to him, she felt him place his hands on her bare shoulders, the cold of his gloves making her skin shiver. “Yes, you have grown, haven’t you? How old are you now? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?”

She refused to answer. He did not laugh much, but he seemed to do it a lot that night. It was a false laugh, more like triumph than mirth. “Still a virgin, Marta?”

“That’s none of your business!” she snapped, even though in her heart she already guessed he knew the answer. It seemed to give him a sick amount of pleasure.

“How fortuitous fate is,” he mused. “That on this, the eve that I have achieved my full power, you would be just the right age to be of interest to me.”

His hands pushed her down on the bed by the shoulders and pinned her there. His face was only inches from hers, and she wasn’t sure how to react. She felt a mixture of emotions, none dominating the other - fear, loathing, embarrassment, and something else she couldn’t quite name, something less unpleasant than the rest.

“Let me go.” The words came out slowly, quietly.

“I think not,” was his inevitable, dry reply.

“What do you want with me?”

“I brought you hear to make you an offer. An offer which I don’t think you’ll find disagreeable.”

For one wild, fleeting moment, hope sprung within her that he would give her charge of the archives, leave it alone. But of course, that could never be.

Finding it not so important to hold her down anymore, Palpatine released his grip. He strode over to the window, his hands clasped behind his back in a pose she had seen many times before. Now that he was no longer touching her, she found she could not sit up. Her limbs had evaporated.

“In three days’ time,” he said in a business-like manner, “all remaining staff of these premises will be dismissed and my own personal staff shall step in.”

She couldn’t help but exclaim. “What?”

He barely inclined his head her way. “I must have complete loyalty from everyone here. The Clone Troops will be my personal guard.”

“And Anakin Skywalker? He is to be your servant too?”

“Anakin Skywalker is none of your concern,” he snapped.

Her thoughts swirled furiously. The boy she had known once as Ani was gone. It was hard to believe that he, like so many others, had betrayed himself to the emperor. Oh, Anakin, what have you done?

It took a moment for the reality of Palpatine’s proclamation to hit home. She would be turned out, with no place to go. She had nothing to offer an empire built on military might. She was alone in the world without a single credit to her name.

“I can save you from the fate of the others,” Palpatine continued, now wholly facing her. “I will give you diplomatic immunity within these walls. Stay on Coruscant, and you are free to go where you wish. You may retain your job, with the provisions I have installed and any others I may decree in the future.”

It was too good to be true. “And in return….?”

He did not speak for a moment. He returned to his pose at the window. “The Republic is gone. This is an age of Imperialism. A strong Emperor needs a strong ruler.”

“Yourself, I suppose.” She was surprised at her own boldness.

He ignored her. “A good emperor must have a good woman at his side,” he continued. “It is important for diplomatic relations to retain an air of humanness, and in the coming years, there will be much diplomacy.” She found breathing difficult now, and he was at her side again, leaning over her. “Stay with me, and you will have everything, anything.”

“I won’t be your whore.” The words escaped her before she had a chance to think.

He was so close now their lips were almost touching. “I never asked you to be.”

She could feel her stomach fall, her ears ring. “There will be some stipulations, of course,” he continued matter-of-factly. “You must dine with me every evening, and you must present yourself well, because there will be many eyes on you. You are to return to this room every night no later than eleven, and when I am away you may stay in your own room where there will be a guard posted. You will not leave this planet under any circumstances, or leave the premises without a guard. Above all, you will maintain a sense of decency and decorum befitting an Empress.”

She couldn’t help laughing, in distain. This whole situation was ridiculous! “What? Why on earth would you ever think I would make a good wife?” If she thought he was anything but joking…this was too absurd to even be something in a nightmare.

He drank in her body, so rounded and curved, that sweet untouched flesh that he had been forbidden from touching for so long. Soon, he would know what it felt like to possess her. It could feel his blood stirring in a way it had not for a very long time. He had won, and she was his prize.

Feeling his eyes on her, she began to shift uncomfortably. Slowly, painfully, he traced his finger down her side, around the swell of her breasts and down her waist, along the swell of her hips and thigh. It left a burn where he traced, and she felt like his desire was in her head. “Oh, I knew it would be you for a long time. Who else would I be able to match wits with? Who would already be respected by the empire’s top officials, be young enough to bear my children, be strong-willed enough to keep my interest?”

Deep inside, she could sense the logic of his argument, even when she raged against it.

“There will be others, of course,” he continued. “But you were the only one whom I knew I wanted, even when you were young. Yes I remember you then, a little hellfire brat, too smart for her own good. And then you turned into such a great beauty- I may be old, but not so old that I can’t appreciate the finer things a woman has to offer.” His words, his lips brushed her check ever so softly.

“I don’t want it,” she breathed. “I don’t want your offer.”

“And you’ll have no place to go. Do you really think I would let you, with the knowledge you have, go wandering around the galaxy spreading information to traitors? No, I think not. If you went, it would only be a matter of time before I came for you. And believe me, I would. There is no place in this Empire you can hide from me.”

The truth struck home. She was trapped in a web that had long since been spun for her. Run, and you will find me. The sarlaac and its tentacles again.

“You will find there are benefits to being at my side.” Was this his idea of comforting her? “You will have a place in the Empire like no other. Power beyond imagination. Luxury you have never known.”

Reason clawed at her. But Sith Lords have a powerful way of clouding minds, and an inevitability began to crowd her brain. Even now he was penetrating her mind the way he would soon penetrate the rest of her, and she could see the possibilities. An orphan girl, a nobody, risen to strange heights. If she fought, it would make no difference in the end. She could go willingly, or she could go crying. Suddenly, she hadn’t the strength to resist.

He could sense the breaking of the will, the momentary lapse, and knew it would be the last time he would have to use the Force on her. She would indeed make a fine wife. He knew he had chosen well. A woman to stir both his mind and his loins. He had planned this moment for so long. It had been her own undoing, arguing with him like that, baring her temper and her knowledge. It was irresistible and intoxicating to a man like him.

She could feel it creeping upon her, warm and not entirely unwelcome. She hated herself for being this way, for not having a stronger will, but she knew, in the end, it would make no difference if she resisted or not. Just do what I want and no one gets hurt. Helpless on the bed, she could feel a strange tingling below her waist, and a hot flush of pleasure that was irresistible. She could feel him running his cold, gloved hands over her hot, pliable skin, and almost tasted her own outrage and twisted desire. It was sort of metallic.

Part of her seemed to hover above her own body, watching with detached interest. So this is what it feels like to be raped. But is it rape if you are going along, enjoying it? Her ethereal self tried to imagine the scene as it would look to a stranger. The thought rather excited her, just as it sometimes excited her when she regarded her own naked body in the mirror. It was not the body itself, but the power she knew she could wield over men with it, that excited her.

“Yessssss” he breathed in her ear as she arched up, a surge of blood coursing through her. So quickly, she was nearing the edge. Having complete control over the Force had its benefits, not least of which was being able to give someone as much pleasure as they did pain in a matter of minutes. Pleasure was just as much a controlling force as pain.

He regarded her with delight as her eyes clouded over in ecstasy and his hands moved up and down beneath the fabric of her gown. She could feel his erection pushing against her thigh, and again felt the same equal parts disgust and excitement from it.

“You will be my obedient wife.” His words were hot in her ear. “And you will surrender to me.” He had pulled the straps of her gown down, pushed it down to her waist, was feasting on her breasts, enjoying how her young, pink nipples were rising in response and the flush that had spread over her body.

All she could think of was ending this torment. “Yes” she breathed, echoing his own words.

“Come,” he said. She rose up to him, and did. As her body was wracked with the waves of the most exquisite orgasm, she could feel her fingers grip and release the sheets beneath her. And while she was still wet, still in his power, he drove into her, completing the most anticipated conquest of his life. His release was no less satisfying than hers. Marta was barely aware, in her fog, of what he was doing, only that she was somehow almost naked and that he had stopped thrusting. There was no room in her mind for horror, or regret, or anything but just the calm feeling that follows release.

When he was finished, he rested his hand over your eyes. “Sleep,” he said, and she felt very tired. She rolled over onto her side and drifted off.

Post-coupling, he always felt strangely affectionate. He was not a monster, no matter what she thought of him. Here in the palace at least, she would always be safe. Best to let her sleep alone tonight. He pulled the covers up to her chin, and she snuggled into them, already lost in a dreamless slumber. My wife, he thought, satisfied in mind and body. His clever wife. The thought pleased him greatly. It was a day to remember, of the final achievement of all his goals, and the supreme rule over everything he desired. He thought back to when he had just been a simple senator, and his threat as a Sith Lord only a rumour, a phantom menace. It was for this moment that he had worked his whole life. Without power, a girl like Marta would regard him as just another old man, not worthy of her love. And now she would be in his bed and by his side as often as he pleased. He leaned over and kissed her unsuspecting mouth. Yes, it had been a rather noteworthy day. And now he would enjoy his victory.

* * *