Chapter Ten: Prisoners

The girl led him to a cell deep in the bowels of the palace, so deep that it was a wonder they didn't wind up in the sewers. This part of the immense building was obviously where the Emperor kept those prisoners he wanted to be kept alive, but only just. Aidan suppressed a shudder. The Emperor didn't want him dead. Not yet.

The turbolift had descended for a long time. Too long, in the assassin's opinion. After stopping, the girl had led him down a sterile white hallway to a wall of stone. Typing in the correct password, she watched impassively as the stone gave way and slid aside, revealing a dark stairway. Aidan had followed her down the stairs, the light from the white corridor fading quickly. After many silent minutes, they reached their destination. Aidan felt the faint presences of a few beings behind the thick metal prison doors. One of the doors flew open, as if by magic. The girl had pointed at it.

Now Aidan strode into his new prison with as much confidence as he could exude, but he realized such adult displays of superiority were wasted on Mara Jade. She merely peered back at him with those aloof green eyes. Aidan would have sighed if he weren't so conscious of the fact that this teenage girl was scrutinizing his every action. She would probably report back to the Emperor, telling every little thing that he had done. He certainly didn't want that.

To be honest, he wanted to get as far away from Imperial Center as he could. It almost frightened him to think of his former ignorance. He'd thought the Emperor to be a figurehead, a puppet for a corrupt bureaucracy. It had never before occurred to him that the galaxy was the puppet show and Palpatine was pulling the strings.

Aidan had begun to realize the truth back in the throne room when the Emperor had threatened to charge him with the murder of his foster parents. Such a threat would not have been unusual for a petty politician, but the expression on Palpatine's face suggested that he was something different altogether. Aidan had recognized that look. It was the same one he saw reflected in his own victims' eyes just before he killed them. It was his own ruthless indifference, magnified tenfold in the Emperor's face.

The Jade girl cleared her throat loudly. Aidan turned to face her. She pointed at a metal chair in the corner. "Sit," she commanded.

Aidan wondered how she would react if he refused. He decided against it. She looked tired, and she was probably the type of person who got violent when they were deprived of sleep. His thoughts returned to the brief time he'd had alone with the Emperor. Mara Jade and the idiot army captain had been ordered to leave for a while, and Aidan had been left in the throne room with the most powerful man in the galaxy.

"What do you want me to do?"

The Emperor smirked, dipping his head forward so that his eyes disappeared in shadow. "Mara, Cryger, leave us."

Aidan stood completely still, trying to ignore his queasy stomach. He still didn't know what was causing it, and he didn't care. Assassins did not get sick. They just did not.

When they were alone, the Emperor spoke. "My young assassin," he purred with false gentleness, "I have been looking forward to this meeting."

Aidan glared up at him with all the heat his dusky blue eyes could produce, thinking of a thousand equally brutal ways to kill the Emperor.

Palpatine smiled triumphantly. "Good! I can feel your anger."

Aidan nearly staggered. He'd done nothing out of the ordinary, and yet it had pleased the old man. He had definitely not meant to do that. He gritted his teeth. "Just tell me what the hell you want with me!" he shouted. As he stood there seething in fury and confusion, he became aware that his captors had not taken his vibroblade from him.

Palpatine laughed again, seemingly unaware of Aidan's discovery. "All in time," he replied, peering down at the assassin from underneath his black cowl.

He couldn't stand it. If he couldn't get a straight answer, he would take matters into his own hands. "I'm not playing your game, Highness." With deadly accuracy, Aidan whipped out his vibroblade and threw it right at the Emperor's heart.

What shocked Aidan the most was not the fact that he had missed the target, but the fact that the blade had halted dead in the air, turned around, and was now pressing against his own throat as if held by some invisible hand. All traces of pleasure and arrogance vanished from the Emperor's wrinkled visage, replaced by a black mask of hatred. The blade hummed closer to Aidan's throat.

"The rules here are simple, boy," Palpatine hissed. "You will serve me, or you will die."

Aidan was used to being issued ultimatums and even more used to rejecting them completely. Now for the first time in many long years, he found himself accepting another man's terms. He had to live. "Your will is my will, Highness," he whispered hoarsely. The vibroblade clattered to the floor.

"I trust you will not be so foolish in the future, my young apprentice," the Emperor murmured darkly.

No. Never again.

Aidan had then been escorted outside of the throne room to await Mara Jade's return. Both of his hands were bound once again, a sign of his spiritual bondage as well as his physical bondage. The Emperor had said he would deal with him sometime the next day. Checking his chrono, Aidan had seen that it was still a few hours before dawn. When the girl had returned, her green eyes had been bright with what Aidan thought might be unshed tears, but the very idea was ridiculous, and he shrugged it off.

Now he sat in the chair under the careful guard of Mara Jade, staring at the ground and wondering how he had gotten himself into this mess.

.

.

There were many things that irritated Mara, and being used as a guard for Force-sensitive beings was definitely high on the list. She was exhausted – though she wouldn't dare mention it to her master – and to be honest, she was a little afraid of this assassin-turned-prisoner. In the short period that she had been acquainted with him, she had seen him go through a series of facial expressions that she often saw on her own master's face. He had levels of murderous rage and cold efficiency that she did not yet possess. Mara wondered if this man was representative of the kind of Hand the Emperor wanted her to become. She shuddered inwardly at the thought. No, she did not need a violent disposition to become a lethal servant.

Mara tried desperately not to rock back and forth on her heels. The other guards would be here soon, and she would finally be able to go to her own quarters. She hoped her master was right in assuming that a dozen elite stormtroopers would be able to subdue Rennal should he somehow break out of his cell. The multiple locking mechanisms were complicated, and Mara believed that the assassin might not have a good enough grasp on the Force to unlock his door.

For now, Rennal was sitting in his assigned chair, still and silent. He sat on the edge of the seat with his back perfectly straight, perfectly disciplined. This was a man who was used to waiting sleepless through the long hours of the night for his victims to make themselves vulnerable. Mara believed that he would sit there forever, if he had to, staring at her through his hazy blue eyes. She blinked twice.

Rennal surprised her when he bent slightly at the waist, a muscle in his cheek twitching in pain. Mara remembered her own stomach, and wondered if maybe they both needed some food.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him sternly. He straightened up and stared back with equal solemnity.

"Yes." The word slipped quietly from his mouth almost quicker than Mara could see.

"Do you want something to eat?" she continued, trying to hide the curiosity rising in her. He didn't sound as eager to lash out as he had earlier.

"No." He shifted slightly in his seat, staring down at his bound hands.

For some reason his silence bothered her almost as much as being forced to guard him. "You're awfully quiet. What happened to the quick-witted remarks you were spitting out before you got here?"

The man brought his eyes up to meet hers. Her stomach coiled apprehensively. He stared at her for a moment. "Would you be so eager to talk if you'd been forced to do something you didn't want to do?" His voice was hard and straight-forward. Mara saw in his eyes a kind of knowledge and experience that she knew she lacked. It made her realize how young she really was, and she looked away.

"Why does he want me?"

Mara didn't bother making eye contact this time. Instead she gazed at the thick steel cell door, remembering the conversation she'd had with Luke a little while ago. Her eyes began to sting, and she forced herself to remain in the present. "I don't know," she replied.

"Oh, come on, Emperor's Hand. You must know."

She whirled on him, green eyes flashing. "Look," she growled, "Emperor's Hand does not mean I am all-knowing. And don't call me that. You say it like a curse."

There was a slightly startled pause. "Well then what should I call you, kid?" He eyed her warily, waiting for another outburst.

It did not come. "Mara Jade," she answered proudly. "As long as you don't act like it's a burden to say it."

A dark grin flashed across his face. "You've got guts, Jade, I'll give you that. You already know who I am, no thanks to your master."

"He's your master too, or so I've heard."

The grin disappeared. Rennal looked back down at his binders. "How could I forget?" he murmured bitterly.

Mara's eyebrows narrowed. "It's not as terrible as you imagine it to be."

"No, it's much worse."

"How would you know anything about it?" Mara retorted.

Rennal laughed harshly and glared up at her. "You've never killed anyone, have you? No, don't say a word, I already know the answer. It's written all over your face." The assassin stood up from his chair and walked in a circle around Mara, as if examining her. "Yep, you're as white as snow."

"What are you talking about?" Mara hissed, watching him move.

Rennal stepped a little closer. "It's hard to explain really. All I can say is that when you've killed someone – when you've murdered them and watched the life go out of them – you can see it in others. It's like an invisible blood stain that we can't get rid of and can't hide from the sight of our fellow killers. You're no killer yet, Mara Jade. But your master is."

The man took a few more steps until he and Mara were separated by only a few feet. She wondered if she'd have time to react should he decide to attack her. "And that scares you?" she returned.

"No, not just that. I've slain many who have wanted my head," Rennal murmured. "He's something different altogether, and you, Mara Jade, can't even see it. Your master's stain is so red, so irremovable, that it is in his very soul. I kill, and I feel no remorse. I feel nothing." Rennal looked around, as if searching for words. "The Emperor kills, and he feels both nothing and everything. He cares for no one, and his entire life force is dependent upon murder and destruction and control. Death gives him unmatched pleasure." The assassin's face contorted in disgust. "Being in his presence is like being stabbed by a thousand knives and still not dying. I'm a simple man; I can't really describe it beyond that."

"And you got all that just from looking at him?"

The assassin nodded.

Mara shook her head in disbelief. "You're crazier than I thought."

Rennal growled and stalked back to his seat. "Fine, I'm crazy. You're his slave, I'm his slave. What difference does it make?"

Mara heard the beeping of her comlink. "Jade," she answered.

"My lady, this is Commander Eckhart, heading up the stormtrooper guard His Highness requested."

Mara sighed with relief. "Very good, commander. Open the door."

The door slid open, and on the other side Mara saw a dozen white-armored troopers. she glanced back at Rennal. "I really don't know why he wants you." The man stared at her vacantly, and feeling a bit more than uneasy, she averted her gaze and exited the room, letting the door lock shut behind her.

.

.

Javan could not be certain of exactly how long he'd been confined to a holding cell aboard the Devastator, but he suspected it must be no more than two or three hours until dawn. At least it would be dawn on Alderaan and on Imperial Center. Of course, no one in the capital would know what fate had befallen the Tantive IV. Darth Vader had seen to that.

After the ship had been captured, the Imperials had boarded and waged a short battle with the Rebels. Against his better judgment, Javan had taken a weapon and attempted to help the soldiers who were supposed to protect him. In the end, it had only helped the stormtroopers find him sooner. He succeeded in killing three of them before they stunned him. When he awoke, they led him to their leader. It had turned out to be none other than the infamous Dark Lord of the Sith.

"Lord Vader," Javan greeted coldly, watching the Sith carefully. He refused to bow as he had during the conference on Alderaan.

"Representative Madai, we meet again," the taller man stated indifferently.

Javan raised his chin high to show Vader that he was not afraid. "You are aware, my lord, that the Senate will never stand for this outrageous act. When they hear you've attacked a diplo—"

"Don't act so high and mighty, Representative. You and I both know you weren't on any mercy mission this time," Vader interjected. "We have been following a series of transmissions beamed by Rebel spies, and they end here with you. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

Javan shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, my lord. I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to—"

"To where? Tatooine?" Vader's eyes lit up in what Javan recognized as triumph. "There is nothing on Tatooine that requires your attention." The Sith smiled cruelly. "Unless you were hoping to contact a certain Rebel spy who resides there."

The young man's heart sank. So they had found the woman on Tatooine. He hadn't helped her at all.

Vader continued relentlessly. "You are part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor. As is your spy friend. She has already been taken care of." Vader waved at the guards who surrounded Javan. "Take him away."

"My peers on Alderaan will know I am missing. What will you do then?"

Vader stared at the younger man. "As far as the Senate is concerned, your ship sent a distress signal. Unfortunately when we arrived, we discovered that you had all been killed. A tragic loss." Without another word, the Dark Lord spun around and stalked off. One of the troopers shoved Javan brutally in the back, nearly toppling him over. Biting his lip to withhold a yell, Javan silently followed his captors to the Devastator

Now the young representative sat in his cell awaiting his fate, pulling his thoughts away from earlier events. He heard someone outside his cell and was only a little surprised when the door slid open. Four stormtroopers stepped in, their blasters trained on him. Javan almost laughed at the way they treated him as if he was a dangerous prisoner.

One of the troopers stepped forward. "Time to go, Rebel." He waved his blaster toward the open doorway.

Javan stood up and followed the troopers as they marched him through the corridors of the Star Destroyer, finally leading him to a hanger bay and an awaiting shuttle. The young Alderaanian eyed the vessel suspiciously but said nothing. Waiting for him on the ramp was Darth Vader.

"You are to come with me to your new prison, Madai," the man said without remorse. Javan let his gaze settle on the Emperor's right hand man, and he realized for the first time that he truly hated someone. He hated this man, this thing. He hated Vader.

He was kept in a part of the shuttle devoid of any viewports, and he only knew they had landed when one of the soldiers on board released him. His hands were bound, and he was brought out onto the ramp. At the bottom he could see Vader standing with his back to him. Another shuttle was docked nearby, and the people aboard it could be seen exiting the enormous hangar bay. Javan strained to make out their features, but to no avail. Instead he focused on his present situation.

He was in a space station of some kind; outside were the stars against the black of space, and on the inside was a bleak, sterile hangar filled with stormtroopers and equipment. Vader was conferring with an officer of some kind, and then he abruptly walked away. The officer approached Javan.

"You there, Rebel," he barked. Javan glared at him. The man didn't even seem to notice. "I'll show you your new home." There was a tone in his voice that Javan did not like at all. Once again he found himself following other men to a destination that would probably prove to be a prison cell.

His captors took him onto a turbolift, and the ride was much longer than Javan would have expected it to be. Very strange. They disembarked on a level very deep in the space station and were greeted by several rows of control panels, each one attended by a black-clothed Imperial guard. Another officer looked up and smiled smugly.

"Where's this one headed?"

"Detention block A-17. Cell 1138."

"All right. Take him then. I don't want to see this scum again." The officer shoved Javan forward. Two of the soldiers took hold of his arms and led him down a corridor.

The detention area officer laughed. "Don't get too comfortable in that cell. Lord Vader ought to be paying a visit soon."

Javan felt his stomach flip over. He didn't even have the luxury of knowing what to expect in an Imperial interrogation. Especially one led by Vader. Javan was completely alone and completely in the dark. He thought of Bail and his father, back on Alderaan. What would they do if they knew where he was right now?

The soldiers brought him to a halt in front of one of the cell doors. They hit the switch, and it opened upward. Javan stepped down into the cell, observing that a metal slab stuck in the wall was the only "furniture" present. He sat down on it, not wanting to anger the Imperials by being stubborn. The detention officer lowered himself into the cell.

"Now, Rebel, don't you want to tell me where the plans are?"

Javan smiled bitterly. "No."

The officer glared down at him. "Tell me this then. Where is the Rebel base?" He glanced back at the guards behind him.

"Sir, your methods are quite laughable. I'll never tell you anything." Javan raised his chin, a gesture recalled from his days in the Royal Palace of Aldera. He did know where the base was; Bail had mentioned it before his departure. But he would never reveal the information.

The officer laughed, and then without warning – although Javan should have expected it – he punched the young man square in the jaw. Javan's head smacked into the wall behind him, and he fell forward onto the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing at the pain exploding in his skull. Something connected with his rib cage, and he moaned as the officer kicked him twice more in the same area.

"Laughable?" the officer hissed, kneeling down to speak in Javan's ear. "Are you laughing now, Rebel?"

Javan turned his head and stared undaunted into the other man's eyes. And he laughed. "Yes." He clutched at his ribs as he picked himself up off of the floor. "I am." He laughed almost like an insane man as he settled back onto the metal slab.

The officer smacked him across the face once more, but Javan refused to break. "Fine," the man concluded. "I think you're ready for Lord Vader."

One of the soldiers came forward and whispered into the officer's ear loud enough for Javan to hear. "But sir, we haven't done all that we can."

The officer's eyes darkened. "It doesn't matter. We'll get nowhere on our own, and the mind probe will be much more effective. Lord Vader will understand."

"Yes, sir."

The Imperials exited the cell. Once the door closed, Javan moaned again and laid down on the cold metal. He cradled his head in his hands, breathing deeply. Perhaps his pride had gotten him through the initial round of interrogation – which really wasn't as bad as he'd expected – but Javan feared that Vader would be much worse.

Roughly half an hour passed, and the door slid open again. Vader's tall form appeared, and the Dark Lord stepped down into the cell. "Now, Representative Madai, we will discuss the location of your hidden Rebel base."

Behind Vader, a black sphere covered in sharp, barbaric instruments floated into the cell. Javan's eyes widened as he took in the monstrosity. He'd heard whispers of such droids, but he'd never believed that anyone would actually create such a thing. Javan backed into the corner of his cell, his gaze locked on the syringe attached to one of the droid's arms.

Lord Vader watched him impassively as the cell door closed and locked the two of them in with the interrogation droid.

.