And so another chapter emerges.
I hope, as always, that you enjoy this chapter and that it will keep you wanting to come back for more.
Disclaimer - I have no rights to anything in the Star Wars franchise, in case any of you didn't know.
Thank you.
The file that had led Piett to the video surveillance of the large, white room and been simply marked with a V. It took Piett a moment to recognize the boy who lay strapped to a table in the middle of the room. His face was a mass of bruises that trailed down his neck and his once recognizable, orange jumpsuit was stained a gruesome rust color from the dried blood that spotted it. The stock of blonde hair, matted and tousled, gave him away more than anything, this was Luke Skywalker.
Movement in the corner of the room grabbed Piett's attention as he watched the video monitor. A man walked into view, coming to stand next to the bench. Piett could tell by the insignia There was audio softly playing to the footage but Piett did not need it to know that his immediate action was required.
"Wake up," the captain was yelling, "There is someone coming to see you. Before he arrives you must know the consequences of not complying to my wishes."
The Admiral was running for the office door by the time Nisca suddenly grasped the young man's throat in his hand and began squeezing down hard. Luke had immediately begun to struggle to get away but was held fast by his bonds. Nisca was still yelling and mocking Luke's useless attempts to dislodge him. Piett, though out of sight of the screen. Could hear him mockingly try to soothe the boy into submission.
"You'll come over to my side one way or another, little Jedi," he intoned, "Cease your futile struggles and give in. Your mine, no amount of hope will change that you can give up now."
But that time Piett had reached the door and run out of the office. Quickly coming up behind him, the stormtroopers began to run clumsily as well. Pointing to one he yelled, "You, contact the rest of troop one and troop two. Tell them to head to the storage level of this ship. Deck 12, block 11, storage unit 33-8. Stop anyone who gets in your way and do not let anyone leave the ship. The rest of you come with me."
Piet started off at a brisk jog, the click of the trooper's boots beginning to fall slightly behind the quick sprint of the Admiral. Even running would take them no less than 5 minutes to reach the bowels of the ship and Piett only hoped that Luke would have enough strength to hold Nisca off until them. The ride in the turbo lift was the worse part. Piett used his authority to override the lift to ensure that the lift would not stop for anyone on its way down but it still tried his patience to stand and wait for the machine to do its job.
Finally, it reached to bottom levels of the ship, and Piet checked on the number listed on the first storage unit 20 – 1. He broke into a run again. This time he completely outdistanced the stormtroopers following him. Their armor did not allow them to move faster than a jog and Piett could not wait for their slower progress. Piett doubted that even Vader knew what Luke was being subjected to and if immediate action was not taken his wrath would surely be the end of the Admiral. Piett came up short, out of the breath, in front of unit 33-8. Unlike all the other units in this section, whose lock pads were light with a green light, this one was red indicating that it was locked. The boy was undoubtedly on the other side. Piett punched in an access code which was denied. He tried another with similar results. Drawing his phaser he tried once last code before he would attempt to break in the door. He would rather not go this route since it was giving Nisca a warning and he might try to kill the boy before Piett could get in. It turned out to be a false concern, however, for the last code Piett tried unlocked the door and it began to slide slowly open. Once there was enough room for Piett to squeeze through it, he was in the room and running towards the table in the center.
Nisca was still learning over the boy, hand tight around Luke's throat. He barely had time to turn before Piett grabbed a fist full of Nisca's uniform and pulled him bodily away from Luke and onto the floor. Nisca gave a startled yell and lashed out at Piett, kicking him behind the knees. Piett's legs buckled and he fell to the floor. The moment he hit the floor, Nisca was on top of him throwing punches into every vulnerable area he could find. Piett tasted blood in the back of his throat as Nisca broke his nose and busted his lip. Piett fought back and in a moment felt the Captain fall away from a well-placed punch to the throat. Both men moved away from each other for a moment, trying to gain some bearings.
"Who do you think you are and what are you doing?" Nisca yelled as soon as his voice would allow.
Piett wiped the blood from his face and started to rise to his feet, the sound of his stormtroopers coming down the hall assured him that Nisca would soon be restrained.
"I am Admiral Firmus Piett of the Executor under Lord Vader. I have come to retrieve this asset you have kept from him and to arrest you on the basis of conspiring to overthrow my Lord and eventually, the Emperor."
Nisca went deadly white and rage struggled with fear and reason for a moment in his mind. Fear won and he bolted for the door, which was now standing wide open. Unfortunately for him, he ran right into the waiting arms of several stormtroopers. After a brief struggle and a stun bolt from a phaser, he was incapacitated and hung limply between two of them.
"Take him to the ship and two of you remain on guard. Lives will be lost if Vader does not have the pleasure of dealing with this traitor himself. The rest of you go get a medic immediately and have troop 2 secure the ship. I want all personnel questioned and processed to see who had a part in this conspiracy."
The troopers saluted and moved off to do as he ordered, leaving him alone with the son of his commander. He wiped his noes once more, the blood was still flowing freely over his face and made his way over the boy's side. Luke's eyes were shut tightly and his whole body rigid and though expecting a blow. His face was turned away from Piett and his breath was coming in short little gasps. Piett seriously doubted whether or not the commander knew where he was or that rescue was at hand.
"Commander Skywalker?" He started and reached a hand out to touch Luke on the shoulder. Luke's eyes suddenly sprang open and he whipped his head around to face Piett, struggling once more again the bonds that had held him strapped to a table for nearly two weeks. His eyes were wide and uncomprehending. Fear and pain shone in them and, to Piett's surprise, there was a large amount of determination that based it all. Despite all that he had been through and even now was anticipating, Piett saw that Luke was determined not to give in, it was the warrior in him, and somehow it reminded Piett of Lord Vader.
"Commander Skywalker," Piett repeated, "I am Admiral Piett, Lord Vader sent me to rescue you. You are safe now. Medics are on their way and once here we will take you out of here and onto my ship. Do you understand me?"
Piett had removed his hand from Luke's shoulder once the boy had started to struggle, which had quieted him a bit, now he was completely still, his eyes trained on Piett's. They were large and blue and shone with tears that had not yet fallen down the boy's face. He didn't cry. Not in a sense. His face was as still and unmoving as the rest of his body, but large tears began to spill over his eyes and track rivers down his face. Piett knew that he did not believe him. The hope that Piett was telling the truth was there, locked inside the tears he was shedding, but the other half of his brain, the part that had been present throughout all the long days of torture and darkness, told him that it was all a lie and a fantasy.
"Let me go," his voice was soft and cracked, but the plea was there.
"I will release your bonds once the medics get here," Piett said, "I do not want you to harm yourself any further. I know you don't believe this, commander, but you are getting out of here. It will only take a few more minutes. I beg you to be patient."
"Please, let me go," Luke asked again. And it took more willpower for Piett not to respond to his request. He hated to make the boy wait any longer to be released but he did not trust himself to be able to handle the boy's desperate fighting if he chose to try and bolt. Piett had to look up from the broken body before him and focus his gaze on the opposite wall. He waited hands folded behind his back and eyes stubbornly refusing to meet the boy's gaze. He knew Luke was still looking at him, he could almost feel it, and the longer Piett had to remain impassive towards the suffering boy, the more he knew that Luke was hating and distrusting him.
He glanced down at Luke once more, seeing if there was any wound that need immediate attention. That is when he noticed Luke's right hand or lack thereof.
The arm was strapped tightly down just below the elbow almost cutting off circulation in the rest of the arm, and where the arm should have terminated in a hand, there was nothing but a bloodied stump. Piett walked quickly over to the other side of Luke, the boy watching him warily, and made to reach out for the arm. This only sent Luke into another bout of panic and Piett had to step away not before he had gotten a fair look at the injury. He had been worried that the boy was bleeding out and that the wound had been recent. With a quick look, however, he could tell that it was an old wound merely reopened and not even bleeding at the moment. Briefly, he wondered where Luke could have lost a hand. All the pictures and videos he had ever seen had betrayed Luke with two flesh hands.
He didn't get any further in his wonderings as they were interrupted by the sound of running feet in the corridor. Piett went to the door to meet the medics who were running towards him. The last thing Luke needed was a bunch of men rushing in on him and grabbing him up.
"The prisoner is very emotionally unstable," Piett explained after asking the medics to wait at the door, "He has a strong aversion to touch and I don't think he is completely aware that we are trying to help him. He will consider any use of force as hostile, even if it's to help him. I am going to unbind him and give him the chance to come to us first. If he refuses or tries to run then we will detain him. Under no circumstance are you to harm him, under pain of death from Lord Vader. My lord has been waiting too long to have this boy for one of you to mess that up for him. Am I understood?"
All the men nodded and Piett could see the effect that Vader's name have on them.
Nodding, Piett turned back into the room and walked over to Luke. Through the whole exchange, he had been watching Piett, the same expression of hopeless determination in his eyes. He flinched away from Piett's hand but the Admiral moved slowly and steadily towards the restrains holding Luke down. Starting with the left hand and making his way around the table, Piett popped the locks on all of the binders and watched them fall away from the young man on the table. The moment all of them were released Piett took a step back to allow the boy free movement.
"You are free to rise, commander," Piett encouraged after a moment of stillness, "I have men here waiting to take you to the Medcenter if you are willing to go. Can you stand?"
Luke moved one arm than the other, holding them up and in front of his face as if he could not believe that they were moving and had to see it for himself. Once convinced that his arms were truly free, he moved his legs and swung them slowly to the side of the table. He sat up and swayed slightly as the blood rushed to his head and his weak muscles groaned from long none use. Still slowly he slid off the table and stood next to it, gripping the side of it for support.
"Commander, if you would allow me," Piett got Luke's attention before moving closer, "I can help you over to the stretcher."
Piett held out his hand and waited for Luke to take it. It reminded Piett of approaching a shy, and possible aggressive dog. You worked with caution and slow measured movements. You waited for the animal to trust you and hoped it come to the hand with friendship, not teeth. Luke's eyes were akin to wild animals at the moment, he had the look of the hunted and the cornered. After moments of waiting, Luke slowly extended his good hand towards Piett, having to release the table as he did so. Immediately he began to fall. Piett was there to catch him, however, and Luke slumped in his grasp. Seeing the boy didn't fight and struggle, Piett called the medics forward and allowed them to lift Luke onto the stretcher they had brought. They laid him on his back but Luke groaned and tried to get up. He must be in pain from laying in that position for so long, Piett thought.
"Lay him on his side," Piett instructed and the meds obeyed. That seemed to work and Luke stopped attempting to rise and allowed himself to be carried away from his prison.