The door hissed open, admitting a puff of air just warm enough to remind Ben how cold his cell was-especially lying manacled to his bunk wearing only his underclothes. He purposely did not raise his head or even turn to look; interrogator droids were programmed to identify the significance of such minor gestures, and he did not want to betray the hopefulness he felt now that he was alert.

But there was no hint of servomotor in the steps that approached his bunk, and the smell that came to his nose was too pleasant and feminine to be a droid's. Suddenly self-conscious about his near nakedness, Ben turned to look.

"Hello, Ben," Tahiri said.

She was dressed in the typical black GAG jumpsuit, but on her it somehow looked like so much more. It was tight in all the right places, with a satin sheen that highlighted the suppleness of her build. And she must have just come from a workout-or at least from somewhere a whole lot warmer than Ben's cell-because the front was open clear down to her solar plexus.

"How are you feeling?" she purred.

Ben quickly raised his gaze and saw that she looked far healthier than she had when she had captured him. Her blond hair was full and silky, sweeping across her brow in a way that almost hid the three scars on her forehead, then dropping down to her shoulders in a wavy cascade. Her cheeks actually had some color in them, and her lips were full and red. Even her eyes, which had seemed so sunken and tired before, appeared larger and more animated.

When Ben failed to answer, Tahiri shot him a knowing half smile. "Sorry-I forgot. You're the man who tells us nothing."

She stepped over to his bunk, and Ben saw that she was carrying a canister of bacta salve in one hand-and a remote in the other.

"I actually admire that." She placed the bacta salve on the edge of his bunk, then displayed the remote. "I need to free one of your arms and legs so I can roll you on your side. You aren't going to make me use this, are you?"

Ben studied the remote and realized that it probably had an activator switch for the stun circuits in his manacles. "I guess that depends on what you do to me."

"He speaks." Tahiri smiled, then pressed a pair of buttons, and the locks on his left wrist and ankle clicked open. "Don't worry-it won't be anything you object to." She flicked her fingers at him. "On your side."

Ben rolled up on his side-and smothered a cry of pain as the pressure sores on his back pulled free of the bunk's sanisheet cover. The bunk settled as Tahiri sat on the edge and opened the canister of bacta salve, and he realized that there was a hint of musk to her odor-a nice hint, one that he found vaguely intoxicating, but not something he remembered smelling on her before. An instant later, he felt her fingertips on his shoulder, and ripples of warm relief began to radiate outward from where she was touching him.

"See?" Tahiri asked. "Not so bad."

"Except for the part where you caused them in the first place," Ben said. He had to remind himself that she wasn't really being kind. "How long have you had me lying here?"

Tahiri moved to a different sore, then said, "I'll answer your question if you answer mine."

Ben sighed. "It was worth a try. Can you at least tell me if Captain Shevu is okay?"

"Same offer," Tahiri replied sweetly. "But I am sorry about these sores. They're not part of the program. We just can't afford to take chances with big, strong Jedi Knights." She ran her hand down his bare shoulder and biceps-and let it linger there. "I'm sure you understand."

"I guess." What Ben did not understand was what her hand was doing kneading the muscles on his arm. He didn't have any sores there-at least not that he could feel-but he didn't want her to stop, either. "You're making a mistake, you know."

Tahiri stopped kneading, and her fingers moved to a sore down near the middle of his back. "Oh?"

"You can't trust Jacen," he said. "He'll turn on you in the end-just like he turned on my parents and me."

Tahiri's touch grew a little more tense. "His name is Caedus now," she said. "Darth Caedus. And who says I trust him?"

"Then what are you doing with him?" Ben asked. "Don't tell me you think he's right?"

"What I think doesn't matter," Tahiri replied, "not any longer. We all make choices in our lives, Ben. You should have stuck with yours. You wouldn't be in the mess you're in-and this war might be over."

Her hand moved lower on Ben's back and began to work on a sore under the waistband of his shorts. He found her touch there a little disconcerting, but he didn't stop her. The sore did need to be dressed, after all.

Ben tried to focus on their conversation-on helping Tahiri see the mistake she was making. "Stick with the man who killed my mother? Have you been breathing coolant fumes?"

"Your mother did attack Lord Caedus first," Tahiri pointed out. "She threatened him in the lobby of the Senate."

"Because he's a Sith," Ben replied. "Because he was working with Lumiya."

"Whom your father murdered in cold blood," Tahiri replied. "I understand family loyalty, Ben-I even admire it. But you need to see that the Sith aren't necessarily the criminals here. Isn't that what a Jedi does? Weighs the facts objectively?"

"My father made a mistake," Ben protested. "You're twisting things around."

"Really?" Tahiri said. "Then why don't you enlighten me, Ben? I'm listening."

"Okay," Ben said. She sounded sincere, but he sensed a trap-and he knew that he wasn't going to persuade her on the basis of right and wrong. As far as he could tell, nobody in this war had any claim to the moral high ground. "Look, whatever it is you want-whatever it is that you think Jacen can give you-you're not going to get it."

"You're sure?" Tahiri asked. Her hand remained beneath the waistband of Ben's shorts, but began to drift up toward his hip. "What is it that I want, Ben?"

Now Ben was really beginning to have trouble concentrating. "Uh, Tahiri?"

Her hand reached his hip bone, and her fingers began to drift over. "Yes?"

"You wouldn't be trying to seduce me, would you?"

"Ben, that's a terrible thing to say." Tahiri's hand remained beneath the waistband of his shorts. "You're only fourteen. Still a boy, really." She lifted her finger, raising the waistband. "Aren't you?"

"I'm a Jedi Knight," Ben countered. He twisted his hip, trying to pull it out from beneath her hand-and failing. "And I don't have any pressure sores up there."

"So you don't." Tahiri used a fingertip to trace a circle on his flesh. "Okay, let's say I am trying to seduce you. You have to admit it's a lot nicer way than torture to, um, inquire about the coordinates of the Jedi base."

"Yeah, I'd have to agree with that."

"So?" Tahiri slid her hand down his hip. "What do you think? Could it work?"

Ben closed his eyes. He truly wanted to say yes-and not just for the obvious reasons. He was really, really tired of being tortured, and he knew as well as anyone that all those truth drugs Double-Ex kept pumping into him were not doing his brain any good.