Pov

She stopped and leaned against the doors for a moment, fully aware of the glances and stares of the passing troopers and officers and meeting their eyes with lustful recognition. Slinging her shredded clothing lazily over her shoulder, she began to saunter down the black corridor toward her quarters. She came around a corner to see the enormous black tower of armor and machinery that was Lord Vader at the other end.

The adrenaline rush instantly coursed through Lylla. She stopped and leaned again on the corridor’s wall as Vader and his flanking entourage made their way toward her. She fixed her eyes directly on the Dark Lord’s mask as all others in the corridor lowered theirs. She reached up and tousled her hair, hoping he would take notice.

He did. He was about to pass her when he stopped. He turned his mask to her and raised a hand to halt his entourage. The Dark Lord and the pleasure **** stood for a while, meeting the other’s gaze, never flinching.

Lylla heard his voice although he did not speak. It echoed through her mind, her limbs like a rumble of far off thunder…

She dropped her lids from his mask to scan his armored bulk up and down before she answered in a soft heavy murmur, “A man, my Lord.” She raised her eyes to his behind the mask and smiled. She pushed herself off the wall, purposely dropping the sheet only slightly and closing the gap of space between them for a brief second, before bowing her head and turning her back to him. She kept her head turned toward Vader, still smiling, as she strolled slowly down the corridor.

Vader stood and watched Lylla until she had turned the corner. Slowly, he turned his mask back toward his point of destination and gestured to his entourage to follow.