Unknown Cell
Unknown Planet
Maximus Piett screamed in spite of himself as a flash of pain burned across his right arm. The air had the peculiar smell of blaster fire, and his ears were filled with the terrifying sounds of blaster fire, mixed in with thumps, yells, screams, and a bizarre and frightening buzzing sound.
As for his eyes – well, he was blind.
He clenched his teeth as tightly as possible, trying not to scream again. Best to attract as little attention as possible.
Within a remarkably short amount of time, the blaster fire stopped, leaving only the buzzing sound.
He heard it coming closer, and his body grew rigid with terror. What new horrors awaited him now?
"Hold still," a male voice ordered. A moment later, he felt the manacle on his right hand part, allowing his arm to fall. Another moment, and his left arm was released.
"How badly are you hit?" the voice demanded, even as he felt hands grab his injured limb firmly but carefully.
"I ... don't know ..."
"Ok, come over here," the Voice ordered, "to the med kit."
"I can't see," Max gasped out.
A pause.
"You're blind?"
"Yes," Max whimpered. (Yes, it was a whimper. Days later he would acknowledge that he, a 23 year old male, had whimpered. But it had been a truly horrible couple of days.)
"Like, you're permanently blind?"
"No! At least I hope not! I ... was at a bar, the Rancor's Armpit, and I guess someone slipped something in my drink. When I woke up, I was blind. I asked why I couldn't see and they just kept hitting me until I stopped asking ..."
Another sob. (A part of his brain was vaguely aware he was not handling this whole experience very well, but mostly he was just terrified.)
"Ok," the Voice sounded relieved. "It's almost certainly just an optic nerve block. Nasty, effective way to keep a prisoner under control. It will wear off within 24 hours."
Even as the man spoke, Max felt something wrap around the stinging portion of his bicep.
"It's just a flesh wound, not serious. I'm giving you a quick antibi shot to prevent infection."
There was a brief prick, barely noticeable compared to the burning sensation.
"24 hours of blindness! I don't know where I am ..." Max took a deep breath, then said suspiciously, "and I don't know who you are. What do you want from me?"
"I am no one to be trifled with," the Voice said in a slightly amused tone, "I'm here to rescue you, and you can call me Lars."
"Lars."
"Yes," Lars replied, "and come on, we need to get out of here."
"I can't see!"
"So take my arm and I'll guide you out of here and into the landing bay. At that point, we'll need to steal a ship and there might be some fighting. So if I tell you to take cover, just do so."
"I think there are a bunch of these guys," Max said nervously.
"Don't worry," Lars said confidently, "I've got it covered."
And indeed, his captor/rescuer/whoever he was did seem to have it covered. Max walked cautiously and nervously down unknown corridors and even up a few steps, with Lars softly talking him through every section. Every once in a while, they would halt and Max would feel Lars tense. Usually, a moment later, there was some kind of banging or thumping.
Finally, he heard an echoing sound, which he eventually realized was the sound of voices echoing strangely off walls.
"Here," Lars murmured softly, "get down behind this bench in this alcove, OK? I'll go clear out the belligerents and then come back for you."
Max found himself irrationally clutching the cloth covering his rescuer's arm, "You promise you'll come back?"
"Yes, of course," his savior said soothingly, "I promise."
Max unwillingly released his hold and sank down to the floor. He forced his body underneath the bench, assuming what was almost a fetal position. Which felt vaguely reassuring.
He closed his useless eyes and focused on listening intently. For a minute, there was only the continued speech in the nearby room, then, abruptly, the strange buzzing sound began again. There were screams, and shouts, then blaster fire, then, after a time which seemed like eternity, silence.
Max hugged his knees tightly, aware of his pounding heart. If Lars had been killed or captured, he knew he would be captured. He devoutly wished he had a blaster. Even blind, he would feel better with some kind of protection, and he'd love to take at least one of these butchers out.
Footsteps approached, then a soft voice called out, "It's me, Lars."
Max heaved a sigh of relief, then crawled cautiously and sightlessly out from under the bench.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah," the voice sounded vaguely surprised, perhaps even insulted, "there weren't that many of them. The bad news is that none of the ships out there are hyperspace capable. We'll have to use a planetside ship to get off this base, and then figure out what to do. But we do need to leave now as reinforcements are no doubt on their way."
Max placed his hand on Lars's arm again and they walked cautiously forward.
"Can't you just ... can't we just go to the nearest Imperial garrison or police enclave?" Max asked. "Or to my home, maybe? I live in the 18th quadrant, Section 3, of Axxila. I don't know how far away we are from there."
There was a pause, then a sigh, "A very long way away. We're not on Axxila."
Maximus froze, "Where are we, then?"
"Camden."
/-
The Executor
In hyperspace, on the way to Vandyne
Admiral Piett had provided information about his nephew with his usual remarkable speed and precision. Vader perused it quickly and distractedly. The youth had lived a strangely unimpressive and dull life considering the exceptional abilities of his uncle. There were no obvious signs of Rebel involvement, of course. But if Admiral Firmus Piett had received any hints that his nephew was involved with the Rebellion, he would have interfered. It was likely that the younger Piett had been quietly recruited by the Alliance, captured in some kind of raid gone bad, and Luke had rushed to the rescue.
His thoughts stuttered to a halt.
Luke.
Again, his last view of the boy's face appeared unwillingly in his mind's eye.
Grief, and horror, and determination. And then the leap off the platform on Bespin into the depths, a fall that should have killed his son.
For the 2187th time, Vader reminded himself that Luke had been shocked and bewildered and irrational. Surely the next time they met, the boy would accept the truth, align himself with this father, and they would be a family again. A family which would rule the galaxy together.
The prosthetic hands clenched. Luke was all he had left in the galaxy. If the boy would not turn – well, that was not an option.
/
Camden
Max firmly took a bite of the ration bar in his left hand, then a swig of water from the bottle in his right. The enclosed speeder they were in took a sudden bump and water splashed across his face, even as he yelped involuntarily.
"Sorry," Lars said at his left.
"I wish I could see," Max grumbled, "I could anticipate the bumps better."
"Well, maybe," his companion said with a hint of amusement in his tone, "or maybe it's better you can't see right now. We're flying pretty low, and if you are prone to nerves while flying, perhaps ignorance is bliss."
"How low?"
"Low."
There was another sudden lurch, and Lars muttered softly, "Ok, that bush was a bit taller than I realized ..."
Max gulped, "Yeah, maybe it is better I can't see. So where are we going?"
"I have a primitive camp in a cave off of one of the rivers nearby. I left it about 3 days ago but it is well concealed, so it should still be safe and unoccupied. We can hide there until your vision returns. We'll have to dump the speeder."
"Why would we dump the speeder?"
"I'm listening to com chatter from the Yakoska pirates right now; they have an embedded tracker in this vehicle and I don't have any simple way to get rid of it. So we'll stop, get off, and then I'll remote control it so it flies a little way and then crashes into a canyon wall. That ought to get them off our backs for a bit."
"Yakoska Pirates?"
"Yeah, the merry band that grabbed you. For at least two years, they've been kidnapping people with wealthy relatives and holding them for ransom, then using the credits to fund their slave trading operation. A completely rancid lot. My team has been working on taking them down for the last few months."
"Your team?"
"I can't give you any details."
"Oh, Ok," Max heaved a deep sigh of relief. Lars must be part of some secret Imperial Dark Ops team.
"Does Yakoska Pirates have some kind of specific meaning?" he asked after a moment.
There was a sudden, horrifying drop and he squealed again.
"Sorry, we just dropped into a canyon. Yeah, Yakoska is a Huttese word, actually. It means 'big turtle'."
"Big turtle?"
"I know, stupid name, right? I guess they thought it would sound menacing. They are a competent and mean bunch, but their grasp on Huttese apparently is limited."
Max frowned sightlessly, "So they aren't Hutts?"
"No."
Again, the speeder swerved sharply. Max gasped but didn't bother squealing. There seemed no point.
"No, mostly humans with a sprinkling of Barabel and Rodians. They are peripherally involved with the Hutts because the Hutts are big players in the Outer Rim slave trade, but the Hutts aren't in charge."
Max felt a sudden, dramatic deceleration and his body lurched forward against his harness.
"Ok, out you go. Just climb out to the right and you'll be on a fairly flat area. I'll climb after you and then I'll get the speeder off on its race toward doom."
Max felt the door to his right open and he clumsily reached for his harness fastenings, only to find them open already. Perhaps the restraints opened automatically?
He clambered out, tripping at the last minute and faceplanting on the rocky ground. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as expected.
Lars's hand grabbed his left arm and hauled him to his feet. Max listened, and felt, carefully. The air felt humid and warm, with a slight breeze. He could hear the ripple of water, and the cry of birds.
"Stay here for a minute," Lars ordered, moving away from him, followed by clanking noises.
Max stood very still and waited. He heard the engine shift from low to high power, then heard it rocketing off farther down the river.
"Ok, come into the cave. You'll have to duck your head. You're taller than I am."
Max took a few more steps and then lowered his head as ordered. A moment later, he could feel the change in temperature and a moment later, he winced as something swooped past his head.
"Some kind of little bat," Lars said authoritatively. "It's harmless."
"Great," he muttered in response. It was just so fun being blind in a weird cave with weird little creatures flying around. "At least they're blind too."
"Ok, sit down here." Lars said, then added, "It's a common misconception that bats are blind, but actually most of them see better than humans."
Max lowered himself cautiously to the ground and found himself on a surprisingly comfortable mattress, complete with pillow. With a groan, he leaned back, taking care to protect his injured arm.
"How's your arm?"
"Not bad as long as I don't touch it."
"Don't touch it."
"Got it."
"Do you need some water or food?"
"I'm still thirsty, yeah. Thanks."
A moment later, a cool bottle, beaded with moisture, was placed into his left hand. With a sigh, he raised himself back into a sitting position and fumbled the bottle open.
"So," he said after a long swig, "You said these Turtle Pirates ..."
"Yakoska."
"Right, that they have been kidnapping people for ransom for quite some time. Why hasn't the Empire tracked them down and stopped them before?"
Lars sighed openly, "They tend to target families with slightly dubious money sources, and thus the Empire usually isn't informed. They also target Outer Rim families, in general, where the Imperial presence is muted. They don't usually request a huge amount for the ransom, and 90% of all hostages have been returned in good health. The remaining 10% have had a tragic outcome due to lack of funding or indifference on the part of the families."
Max sat up in surprise and indignation and lingering horror, "If you hadn't interfered, I think they were going to cut off one of my fingers!"
"Yes, it was a close thing, truthfully. Your abduction was unusual, though I'm still figuring out the details. I couldn't hear really well but I gathered they were demanding the release of some prisoner on Axxila? That's totally not their modus operandi. Plus I presume you are directly related to an Imperial official, and they avoid those kinds of hostages because they want to avoid direct Imperial attention."
Max narrowed his blind eyes, "You couldn't hear well? Where were you?"
Lars chuckled softly, "In the ductwork carrying heating and cooling air to the room. I've spent way more time in ductwork than any man should, but I'm not very big and I find I can often get around that way. But that building's heat exchange systems are lousy so I kept hearing thumping and banging which partially drowned out the conversation. But I gathered from what I did hear that your father is some kind of government official on Axxila?"
"Uncle, not father," Max responded more sharply than he intended. "My father is dead."
A long pause, followed by, "I'm sorry."
Max took a deep breath and relaxed, "It's Ok. It's just ... well, anyway, it was my uncle and he's not a government official on Axxila. But he was in orbit around Axxila in the Executor so he was around. Maybe they knew that, or maybe Mom called him and he decided to take over the ransom negotiations."
Max waited, but the silence stretched for some time.
"Executor?" Lars finally asked, "He works on Executor?"
"He commands the Executor," Piett responded with some pride, even as he took another sip.
Another pause.
"Your uncle is Darth Vader?"
Max choked in shock and spit out the water, then coughed three or four times before managing to pull air back into his lungs.
"No! What kind of crazy question is that?"
"You said he commands Executor ..."
"Stars and moons, Lars, no! Of course not. Darth Vader doesn't have family as far as ... Look, Lord Vader commands Death Squadron, and Executor is the flagship, and my uncle is her admiral."
"Firmus Piett is your uncle," Lars stated.
"Yeah, you've heard of him?"
"Of course I have. He's something of a legend."
"Is he? I ... haven't spent a lot of time with him in years, though he tries to make holocalls when he can. But he is really busy and I guess ... well, we're not in complete agreement about my career choices so that probably has cut down on the communication."
"So what's your name? Are you also a Piett?"
"Oh, I didn't realize you didn't know my name. Yes, I'm Maximus Piett."
"Maximus?"
"Family tradition. My uncle is Firmus, my father was Tractus, and I'm Maximus. It's kind of a pretentious name, like Father thought I was going to grow up to be something amazing. Obviously that didn't work out. I prefer to be called Max."
"By friends, or anyone?"
"You can call me Max or Piett or big turtle or whatever. You saved my life."
"My pleasure. Listen, I'm sure you're exhausted by the last couple of days, and we can't move until you've regained your sight. Why don't you go to sleep?"
Max drank the last sip of water, carefully put the bottle down, and thankfully sank down onto the mattress. Within minutes, he was asleep.
/-
The Executor
In hyperspace
En route to Vandyne
"We will arrive at Vandyne in 4 minutes, my Lord."
Darth Vader turned away from the viewscreen in conference room #2. He had left his chambers an hour ago and had been roaming the ship, annoying and distressing his crew members in the process, which was as it should be.
If he was agitated, they should be too.
"Very good, Admiral."
Piett saluted, his face a mask of stoic calm, then turned to go.
"Admiral."
"Yes, my Lord?" the man inquired, turning back.
"Your nephew had a stellar academic record until age 15. Then he took his preparatory Academy tests and did poorly, to the point that it seems deliberate. I am surprised you didn't question that performance."
Piett's mask slipped slightly for a moment, before Imperial discipline took hold again.
"Maximus's father Tractus, my younger brother, was killed in a speeder accident on Corellia 6 weeks before the tests, my Lord. My nephew had a very difficult time with his father's death, as did my sister-in-law. I assumed the poor performance was due to his emotional struggle with the loss of his father."
Vader stared at Piett for a long moment.
"I see."
He experienced a sudden, painful twinge in his heart. If he died suddenly, what would Luke do?
Probably throw a party with his degenerate Rebel friends.
A most discouraging thought.
"Who was responsible for your brother's death, Admiral?"
Piett looked slightly puzzled, "A spice addict who was fool enough to get behind the controls of a speeder. Tractus was at the wrong place at the wrong time. They were both killed in the accident."
Vader nodded again, "I see."
There was no obvious reason that his father's death would have pushed the younger Piett towards the Rebellion, then.
"I assure you, my Lord, that if I had ... had known Maximus was attracted to the Rebellion, I would have interfered."
The Dark Lord stared at him, his great helmet tipped slightly to one side, "But you believe now that your nephew is a Rebel?"
Admiral Piett, in spite of his training, couldn't keep his eyes from bugging out, "He must be, mustn't he, my Lord? I mean, Skywalker presumably rescued him."
"We don't know that, Admiral," Vader said ruthlessly. "For all we know, Skywalker killed him after the com was destroyed."
In spite of himself, Admiral Piett flinched. Yes, it would be better for Maximus to be dead than locked in prison as a Rebel, but he was still his nephew, still his blood ...
Vader actually felt a strange twinge that was something like compunction, "But probably he did not. Skywalker is a Jedi and prone to ridiculous acts of compassion, plus he struggles with a severe hero complex. Your nephew may well be a Rebel, but possibly merely a hapless bystander."
Camden
In the woods outside the cave
"He's asleep right now."
"So you're sure this isn't some complex trap? I mean, he is Piett's nephew!"
"No, I am confident he is just a hapless bystander. I mean, not really a bystander but it makes sense. Sounds like somebody connected to the Yakoska Pirates was captured on Axxila and they made the risky decision to grab Maximus Piett to put pressure on the Admiral. And then of course I interfered, because that's what I do."
"Yeah, that's what you do all right," the woman at the other end drily.
There was a pause, and Luke Skywalker eyed the com equipment nervously, waiting.
"Well, we're in position," Leia finally said, the determination in her voice winning through the minor static.
"Can I say again ...?"
"That this scares you? No, you may not. This is a great opportunity and we're going for it."
"A lot could go wrong."
"And a lot could go right. I admit I am really worried about you, but since you insist that there is still good in him ..."
"There is. I felt it."
A sigh, "Well, I guess we'll see."
"I love you," Luke said. "And please pass my love on to everyone else."
"I love you too. And I will. Com silence from here on out."
Author Note: First, many many thanks for all the encouraging reviews, follows, and favorites. And to my wonderful husband, thank you again for being my beta. The "Yakoska means 'big turtle'" is a long standing family joke. Mackinac Island is a neat island in Michigan, and Mackinac means "big turtle" in a native American language. Every time we wonder aloud about the meaning of some foreign word, we come up with "big turtle" as the likely definition.:-)