GENERAL VEERS
Damn the technicalities of technology. With the activation of the shield generator at full power, it prevented any aircraft from landing within a certain radius of the bunker and so anyone hoping to make landfall would have to approach from a distance. Ground had been cleared to wave in Imperial craft, but the area was not secure and Veers felt highly exposed as he watched two separate shuttles make their final turnarounds for landing.

Why Lord Vader thought that the forest moon was the best place to convene for an emergency meeting between the available Joint Chiefs, Veers was sure he didn't know, but he trusted there was a good reason for it and in any case, it was not his job to question the Sith. He was confident in the bunker's security and he could think of no better way of distributing the deactivation codes between those assigned to have them than to bring those individuals to the source to avoid the codes switching hands. Commander Jerjerrod, Admiral Motti, Admiral Piett, and Veers himself with Captain Needa standing in for General Romodi, though the latter was not to be given access codes.

Veers awaited the arrival of the four other officers, standing at attention but keeping one ear open to listen for a sign from his coordinator of any ground activity not cleared by them. He knew there was a patrol due east from them, but no other personnel were given leave to be in the area. He gathered that thirty troops was more than enough security to escort the officers to the bunker, but now, that estimation seemed quite off as he surveyed the surrounding trees.

He did not care for the wildlife here that never ceased to be quiet when it was imperative that he listen for unnatural sounds, but in truth, he felt uneasy because the foliage was so thick that he had no way of seeing through it. Coming from an ecumenopolis world, he was used to skyscrapers and massive man-made structures, but there was a sense of order and civilization there, not like this wilderness before him.

The shuttle captains had been advised to not linger after delivering their human cargo and through the windscreen, Veers could see the unease from the pilots as the first shuttle touched down and emitted Admiral Piett and Captain Needa who were both clutching their kepis to prevent them from blowing away in the backdraft as the ship took off just as quickly as it had landed. The second shuttle had dropped off Commander Jerjerrod and Admiral Motti but was waiting for clearance to take off when the four officers met Veers on the mound overlooking the landing area.

"Welcome to Endor," said Veers.

The contrasting expressions from his fellow officers was amusing, to say the least, for two of them had come from similar ecosystem worlds and were exhibiting the same discomfort that Veers felt while two of them looked positively elated to be on solid ground again. Motti was checking the bottom of his boot undoubtedly to see if he had stepped on animal droppings and Needa was dabbing at his brow as he waved his kepi to fan himself off. Piett had bent over to remove one glove and run his hand through the grass underfoot and Jerjerrod tilted his head back to get the full effect of the sun reaching its rays down between the leaves of the trees.

"I've never felt so drenched without being in water before" asked Needa.

"That is called humidity, Captain," said Piett with a small smile in recollection of his own homeworld. Axxila was a planet dotted in islands and so Piett would have grown up in such a humid climate until he had enlisted in the Academy and the feel of it on his skin now would bring back memories of simpler times.

"It's hot and foul," said Motti. "How do you breathe in this sort of climate?"

"I could ask you the same thing concerning the smog that hovers over planets such as yours," said Jerjerrod.

"The air is regulated and cooler in the bunker," Veers assured them, inwardly rolling his eyes at these men who had grown so accustomed to the comforts of space living that they were positively out of their element on any planet or moon. Not a one of them would last long if they had to trek any sort of terrain other than a flat surface. "Our speeders are waiting for us just a few minutes' walk from the clearing."

"General, sir, our scanners are being jammed from an outside source," reported his ground coordinator. "We have no eyes on the surrounding area; rebels could be close."

Veers was about to give the order to the troopers to fall in and protect the officers when a high-pitched whistle alerted him to the firing of a proton missile launcher.

"Down!" he shouted, and heads dropped all around him as a missile hit the retracting landing gear of the GX1 shuttle. The entire craft took a nose-dive and crashed down in front of them, setting a line of trees ablaze. At the same time, he heard various blaster reports as they were targeted from the concealed rebels. "Return fire!"

Troopers formed uniform lines on either side of the officers but then several gas grenades were launched into their midst and in the chaos, his men scattered despite his orders to stick close. Reaching out a blind hand, Veers made contact with an Imperial tunic and pulled the owner in close to see that he had found Needa who, to his credit, had drawn his RK-3 blaster and was firing randomly despite not being able to see anything.

"Stay close to me and out of my line of fire," Veers instructed. He took a step back and stumbled as his heel came into contact with a trooper body that had been riddled with blaster fire until his entire torso was nothing but a gushing pool of blood.

Needa looked down upon the body and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run or vomit. He stared at the river of blood trickling down from one of the mortal wounds, wide-eyed and terrified.

"Captain!" snapped Veers to jolt Needa from his stupor. Blinking hard and taking a shaky breath, Needa nodded to show that he was in full awareness. Veers led Needa to the crest of the hill where they were able to get a clearer vantage point on what was happening below, though it did not inspire confidence. The troopers had broken off into twos and threes, pressing outward wherever they could see blaster fire and the few ensigns who had accompanied the squad were running for it. Piett was visible in the underbrush far off to the right, back pressed to a large slab of rock and a Blurrg-1120 in hand. He had a deep gash across his cheek from a blaster ray that had grazed him. On the other side, Veers saw both Jerjerrod and Motti moving bent double with Motti's hand on Jerjerrod's back to not lose him in the fray, as they had learned in their training many years ago but likely thought they would never have to use.

Glad to see that his fellow officers were not completely useless in a fight, Veers gave a call to rally the troops and discourage pursuit when a blaster shot nearly took his head off and he ducked down.

At his call, Piett had left his hiding spot, shooting over his shoulder to provide his own cover fire. He joined Veers and Needa and the three of them made a mad dash for the trees that were not on fire as blaster shots churned up grass and mud at their heels. They had just made it past the treeline when something sliced through the air and nearly would have decapitated Needa if the man hadn't had such lithe reflexes. Bending backwards at the waist, he avoided the blow and instead fell hard on his tailbone.

Veers moved to counter-attack but heard the report of a blaster beside him and saw the result in the form of the rebel who had shot at Needa now lying dead some fifteen feet away. Beside Veers, Piett's blaster barrel was smoking from the shot he had taken and he had frozen in place as he gazed down upon his kill.

While Veers could understand the quiet, the confusion, and the falling feeling in the pit of one's stomach after taking a life and seeing that life snuffed out in front of one's eyes, there was almost never time to process it. The battle did not halt and the universe did not stand still just because a man's morality was tested and Veers had been lucky enough to have another soldier looking out for him when he made his first kill. Now, he needed to be that for Piett, to ground the admiral in the now instead of in the past where the living body of the man he had killed existed.

"Admiral, I need you focused–"

On the verge of telling Piett to keep moving, Veers saw an explosion go off on Piett's right and though they were outside of the blast radius, it still set Veers's eardrums ringing and he clapped his hands over his ears to stop his head from spinning. Piett had done the same, reaching across his face to cup his right ear with his non-dominant hand as his dominant one kept hold of his weapon. Shrapnel and debris flew every which way and Veers tried to make himself heard to warn Piett to drop, but if he–who had been standing further away from the explosion–could not hear anything just yet, he doubted Piett could.

He looped an arm around Piett's waist and dragged him down out of the line of fire, smacking him across the back when he tried to sit up as a warning to not move until Veers told him it was safe to do so. To his relief, Needa had seen fit to stay on his back where he had landed before the explosion even occurred.

Though not experienced warriors by any means, at least his companions were able to follow simple orders. There was no time for words of praise to either of his fellow officers which Veers would not have given anyway as he spotted what appeared to be a bush running for its life across his field of vision. Now that the explosion had finished shaking the ground and only smoke and dust remained, Veers hastened to stand. Both Piett and Needa did the same to provide cover fire if needed, but they seemed quite confused as to what they were seeing in front of them.

Balancing his RK-3 blaster pistol on the flat of his left hand, Veers followed the bush for another twenty feet and then fired. His shot took the camouflaged runner out, but as he shifted his firing stance into a more relaxed one, his peripheral vision caught movement to his left and he instinctively lifted his arm to block the blow that was coming. A rebel had attempted to strike him with a melted butt end of a rifle but Veers used the blaster still in his hand to act as a set of brass knuckles and struck the rebel in the stomach with it. His hit landed squarely and the rebel gasped as the air was driven out of his lungs.

Veers intended to switch his weapon to stun to take this rebel as a prisoner when Needa fired prematurely to eliminate the threat he saw before him. Now irritated with the captain's lack of battlefield discipline, Veers was about to deliver an earful when he spotted a transparent ball of electric yellowish-white energy come soaring through the air and exploding at his feet.

Instant waves sparked from it, sending electric shocks up his body until he, Piett, and Needa were laid temporarily flat from the effect. Spasms ran through him, setting his limbs twitching, his hands unable to grasp his weapon and his legs unable to support him. He saw two rebels rushing in to either deliver a death blow or knock him unconscious when Motti appeared, swinging a deactivated Z6 riot control baton that he must have acquired from a fallen trooper.

Motti knocked one rebel's legs out from under him and as the second turned to see why his partner had fallen, Motti shifted the baton grip around so that the hilt rested under his forearm and the blade popped out, going live in currents of neon blue. The riot baton had been designed in masses once it was discovered that Luke Skywalker had forged himself a lightsaber, allowing troopers to be able to stand a fighting chance in close combat with the Jedi, but Veers very much doubted that Motti had the faintest idea of what he was doing with such a weapon.

The rebel came at Motti with some sort of crude speared weapon of his own and Motti held the baton up to catch the opposing blade before it could slice him in half. Both he and the rebel seemed rather surprised that he managed to block the attack and Veers hoped Motti's own amazement didn't stun him into stupidity.

As the rebel withdrew his spear and stabbed outward, Motti sidestepped but went one step too far, tripping backwards over exposed tree roots. He fell flat on his back and the rebel made to stab him through the gut when Jerjerrod barrelled into him with no apparent plan other than to prevent the rebel from disemboweling Motti. The rebel was the first back on his feet, but his spear had been knocked away and he snatched out at Jerjerrod, holding his forearm across the commander's throat as the other pressed against Jerjerrod's head in an attempt to snap his neck.

Feeling was starting to come back to Veers's limbs and he flexed his fingers, reaching for his blaster which lay just out of reach. Motti had regained his feet but was now grappling upright with the first rebel he had downed and the two were matched in size. Resorting to savage means, the rebel clouted Motti upside the head and then delivered a furious left hook. Veers saw blood spray from Motti's face and wondered if it was from a shattered bridge bone or broken teeth.

Jerjerrod was twisting about in an effort to throw the bigger rebel off of him, but he could not gain enough traction to throw the man over his shoulder from behind. His face was turning blue but his eyes were strangely focused on one spot on the ground.

Cursing his body for not being compliant, Veers closed his fingers around the grip to his blaster, though his hand was still shaking uncontrollably. He sat up, aiming at the rebel trying to throttle Jerjerrod, but the bastard spotted him and maneuvered the commander around to use his body as a shield.

Seeing that Veers was once again armed, Jerjerrod could barely spit out the plea, "Shoot him!"

But it was too close. Veers could not aim properly from the trembling in his hands and there was no clear shot without the risk of hitting Jerjerrod. What Veers needed was for Jerjerrod to move his head suddenly to the left to give him that one second opening, but he had no way to convey that to the commander.

"Shoot–him!"

Move your head, Veers thought desperately. Don't just stand there, you idiot. You have to do something. Move your damned head!

And incredibly, Jerjerrod did just that. All it took was one second in which he cocked his head to the side, risking further harm to his throat, and Veers shot the rebel in the right eye. The arm went limp across Jerjerrod's throat and the body crumpled behind him. Jerjerrod staggered into a tree, gasping and choking for breath as he massaged his throat. He locked eyes with Veers and gave a brief but grateful nod.

"C-Conan?" he panted, looking about for the admiral, but the last Veers had seen, Motti and his opponent had gone toppling down the hill and out of sight.

Then there came a wild cry of terror as Motti broke out of the bushes and sprinted toward them with his eyes wide and alert, his face a bloodied mess as if he were being tailed by some monstrous beast. He had almost made it to where Piett and Needa still lay when a straight orange cord shot out from the bushes and made contact with his back. His arms flew up in reactionary pain and he gave a shriek as the coil latched onto him in a wicked-looking claw that dug into his skin at five points of contact and electrocuted him. It pulled him up short for a moment before yanking him backward with the strength of five men. Motti went flying, crashing down at the feet of the rebel who had fired the hook and the rebel then brought the riot baton down on Motti's stomach once, twice, three times. With each strike, Motti yelped like a beaten animal whose mouth was filling with blood.

Veers found his way to his feet, steadying himself and preparing to fire, but someone else got there first.

His near-death experience forgotten, his body in full battle mode, his face an image of rage, Jerjerrod had taken the dead rebel's blaster rifle and in four giant strides, covered the distance to the rebel and Motti. Without warning or giving the rebel a chance to surrender, Jerjerrod fired three shots at point-blank range. The rebel was more than dead as Jerjerrod stood over his smoldering remains but then, to Veer's morbid fascination and shock, he fired an additional five times and would surely have shot more if Veers hadn't chosen that moment to call him off.

"That's enough, Commander."

There was a faraway, unhinged look behind Jerjerrod's eyes as he lowered the rifle and stared down at the corpse lying in the grass. Veers thought it could have been a trick of the firelight burning some hundred feet behind them, but he could have sworn that he saw a red glow brimming in Jerjerrod's eyes.

The battle was waning around them, the rebels in full retreat and the surviving troops forming a defensive line. An ensign was calling in for a heavily armed escort from the bunker and as Veers did a quick calculation, he estimated that at least half of the thirty troops he had gathered were dead or missing. Miraculously, the officers had all survived, but Veers knew there would be a very serious conversation about Jerjerrod's actions to follow and an even graver report to make to Lord Vader.

As if coming out of a daze, Jerjerrod dropped the rifle, looked down upon his kill, and promptly vomited into the bushes, retching on his bruised throat, the smoke from the fires, and his own actions. He held an arm across his belly as his body heaved, rejecting everything that had gone into his stomach in the past twelve hours. When he had spilled everything his stomach had to offer and was only spitting saliva, he wiped a shaky gloved hand across his mouth and turned to where Motti still lay nursing his own stomach, oblivious to what had happened to the rebel and how it had happened.

Piett and Needa had regained the use of their legs and together with Veers, they trudged down to the bottom of the hill to tend to Motti.

"Conan, are you alright?" asked Piett.

Motti gave a loud groan in response, hugging his ribs. His face had a fine coating of blood on it and he was sporting a broken nose. He saw them all watching him and offered out a hand for any of them to help him up. Needa took it, hauled him to his feet, and draped Motti's arm across his shoulders.

"You fought well," Veers commended. True, he did not hand out praise for doing one's duty, but Motti had gone beyond that, beyond anything Veers would have expected of him, and deserved to be told so. "For a man with no training with that baton, you held your own admirably."

"I assumed the goal was to beat the ever-living bantha shit out of someone with it," said Motti.

Under normal circumstances, Veers would have reprimanded him for his use of profanity, but he gathered that the situation warranted an expletive or two. Motti got a good look at the remains of the rebel that had beaten him and swore again. "What the hell happened to him?"

Piett and Needa were tactful enough to not speak for Jerjerrod, but Veers knew that Motti would feel it was his right to know the truth, so he spoke plainly. "The commander disposed of the rebel."

Turning to face Jerjerrod who had been avoiding the admiral's eye until this point, Motti asked with an underlying note of admiration, "What did you do?"

"I think the question is: what did the rebel do to you?" Piett corrected in a deliberate act of deflecting to buy Jerjerrod time to come up with a reasonable response.

Motti gestured at himself as a whole as if it was obvious, but Veers retrieved the coiled weapon and examined it. Though barbaric, it was an impressively crafted weapon designed as a more advanced lasso with electric currents and a hook to it. The real question came from wondering how a pistol blaster could wield the strength of several men, but Veers suspected it might even be one-of-a-kind and that if the prototype could be replicated, it would serve the Empire well.

Coming around behind Motti to inspect his back where the hook had dug into him, Veers found deep lesions in his skin that would need to be sealed with a few sessions in a bacta tank or else stitches to temporarily hold the skin together until a more permanent form of healing could be arranged. The hook latches had dug in deep at all points of contact and Veers did not feel safe removing them on his own. He touched a finger to one of the wounds and Motti pulled away.

"How bad is it?" the admiral asked.

"As long as it doesn't get infected, not life-threatening. I'm more concerned for the hits you took from the front."

Veers prodded around at Motti's ribs and Motti winced, muttering under his breath and no doubt calling Veers something colorfully insulting.

"You've taken a severe beating and require immediate medical care. Once our transport arrives, I will see to it that you are examined thoroughly and tended to while I give a report to Lord Vader. If he insists that the meeting continue as scheduled for this evening, I will ensure that you are filled in and given your deactivation codes."

Motti appeared to be in too much pain to bother making any sort of sarcastic remark and so with Needa holding him up by one arm and Piett stepping in to take the other, they crested the hill once again to await the arrival of the armed escort. As cooperative Motti was in being loaded onto a speeder and taken to the medical ward at the bunker ten minutes away, the same could not be said of him once he was examined by a meddroid half an hour later.

The ward was full for a while as the survivors of the encounter were tended to. One trooper had had his arm blown off and several others had to have shrapnel dug out of their skin. Veers himself only had been exposed to the Gungan booma (and privately, was angry enough that the rebels had procured such a weapon to launch an investigation into why Naboo was providing rebels with assistance when they had agreed to remain neutral during the war), but the energy ball had left him jittery and he had no choice but to wait for the spasms to stop. Needa suffered a bruised tailbone and some minor cuts and scrapes while Piett was being treated for the gash along his face that had gone deeper than initially thought. Jerjerrod's near strangulation meant he needed to undergo a short session of bacta treatment that was able to be arranged so that he only had to wear a specialized tube around his neck for an hour until the swelling had gone down.

Motti was another case entirely, for while the others were in and out of their sick beds within a few minutes, he had to be strapped down to his because he was adamant about not being sedated but was much too active for the meddroid to handle alone. Veers was present for the examination and even had to step in to secure the straps when it came time to unlodge the hook from Motti's back. It had been a bit of an ordeal peeling him out of his tunic and once they had, it was difficult to decide if his ribs or his back should be tended to first, but the fact that the hook was visibly sticking out of his skin gave it priority over his cracked ribs. The hook had barbed points, going in smoothly but tearing out flesh upon their exit and it was quite a chore to watch the meddroid attempt to remove the latches. Though Veers had a stronger stomach than most, even he had to wince when the hook was finally removed, bringing several stringy bits of soft tissue with it.

In the end, Veers had to give the droid permission to allow Motti a session in the full bacta tank to treat the rest of his injuries, which Motti was highly reluctant to get into for reasons he wouldn't explain until Veers concluded that Motti suffered from a mild case of claustrophobia. Veers almost had to threaten Motti at gunpoint to get in the tank, which the admiral finally did after making a rather unnecessary fuss about nothing and taking ample time stripping down to a modesty-preserving garment with some help from Piett since Veers refused to deal with Motti if the admiral insisted on acting childish. Piett helped Motti up the winding steps to the top of the tank, fitted him with his breathing apparatus, and then with some coaxing, managed to get Motti to lower himself into the tank where a sedative was fed to him through his mask enough to put him in a light doze. Veers supposed he would be hearing from Motti about being put under against his will once the admiral awoke in a few hours.

Upon arrival at the bunker, Veers had made a quick and undetailed report to Lord Vader on the rebel attack, solidifying the belief that the rebels had an ulterior motive of landing and launching an attack on the bunker. More squadrons had been released into the forest to comb the area for fifty miles in all directions but so far, not one of them had reported anything of significance.

All there was to do now was wait, as Lord Vader had approved Veers's request to delay the council meeting. Piett and Needa had joined Veers at the table while Jerjerrod was having his tube removed elsewhere and the three of them said nothing as they watched the bacta beginning to take effect on Motti. Downtime was not a luxury any of them were used to, and so they had little idea of what to do with themselves. Idle chat was not something they engaged in and there was no use in discussing anything related to the rebels that they hadn't already gone over dozens of times with other officers already. Veers was not a man to suffer boredom very often but he was finding himself to be on the brink of it just now and did not care for it at all. His mind was always occupied and when it wasn't, he was sleeping purely to prepare himself for the next day and nothing more. He could not stand the lazy silence they all sat in now.

Jerjerrod rescued them from any further discomfort in his arrival with four tankards filled with some replenishing beverage that smelled foul but that were prescribed by one of the medics for all personnel involved in the skirmish. Veers suffered in silence as he drained half of his drink in one gulp but Needa made a bit of a show of pinching his nose to swallow his share and the other two looked to be working through a toothache.

"And what exactly is this meant to accomplish?" asked Needa with a grimace.

"The medic informed me that it was to dull the shock response and calm the nerves," said Jerjerrod in a voice that sounded slightly hoarse, but otherwise like his normal self. His eyes were just barely bloodshot, but the bruising and swelling around his throat was almost nonexistent.

"Any lasting damage?" Piett asked the commander.

"Thankfully, no, though that might not have been the case if the rebel had held on much longer. He knew what he was doing in squeezing only enough to subdue me and not kill me, as he needed me as a shield."

"Do you suppose they knew of our relevance when they decided to attack?" posed Needa.

"Hardly," answered Veers, as he had given the matter much thought and concluded that it had been a desperate attack, not a coordinated one. "Those rebels who attacked us must have not been able to communicate with others, otherwise they would not have engaged. They were after our equipment, as theirs was obviously damaged and they needed faster modes of transportation to rendezvous with the others. If they knew that such high ranking officers had just landed, they would have attempted to capture us, but they had no idea, evident in how they were aiming to kill us all. Desperation is just as deadly as determination."

"Indeed," said Jerjerrod, clearly remembering how the rebel chose to use him as leverage for his own life rather than surrender or run.

"Determination has the steadier hand," Piett observed. "Your sharpshooting skills are impressive, General. The moving target shot and the head shot were both meticulously placed."

"Commander Jerjerrod just happened to move his head enough for me to manage that last shot," said Veers modestly, though he was watching Jerjerrod with a scrutinizing look that the commander took notice of and caused him to subtly shake his head. Veers addressed a new topic out of courtesy, but knew that he and Jerjerrod would revisit the subject quite soon. "The three of you all took a life today, but I would hope that that does not affect your performance in your duties."

"We all have done the same before, only under different circumstances," said Piett, though he was justified in saying so, as he had not reacted nearly as badly as Jerjerrod had when realizing the consequences of his actions. "It's quite a different feeling in giving the order when compared to having to carry it out yourself, but we do what is necessary for our survival."

"For yours?" asked Veers quickly.

"That's what I said. I was ordered to land on this moon and was set upon less than five minutes after arriving and my only thought was to survive, not to serve a greater purpose," said Piett sharply in a warning that Veers was not to question his loyalty to the Empire just now. In the heat of battle, Piett had done what made sense to him without thinking of who he was and why or how he had come to be in this exact place, which was how he and Veers were different.

"The difference between our military branches is that we, as naval officers, do not see close combat and make decisions based on how they affect the men under our command," said Jerjerrod sagely. "Army soldiers often engage in solo outings and must make decisions that could mean life or death in that moment and as a seasoned veteran, you would know this, General, but do not begrudge us our hesitation or lack thereof during our first ever close combat experience. As you said, we all took a life today, and though we do not intend on letting that fact cloud our judgment, we are allowed to process it as the humans that we are."

"The only one of you who seemed to have no qualms about your actions is Admiral Motti," said Veers in an attempt to shame them all for their inability to accurately cope with the subject of murder. One was not allowed to harbor sympathy for lives lost in service to the Empire and yet they all were struggling to see their actions as a victory.

"Admiral Motti was the only one to not have a kill count today, yet I think we can all agree that he seemed the most likely and able to do so," Needa observed to which they all nodded their heads. True enough, Motti had the aptitude for an army soldier and had picked up on the wielding of the riot baton much more efficiently than any of the others had taken to their weapons. Though he had not succeeded in killing his opponents, he was the only one to engage in an actual fight with his and it was not his fault that he hadn't come out victorious. He had taken quite a beating for his efforts, yet he was the only one who did not seem conflicted by his decisions made during the battle. He certainly was capable of killing and likely would have if not for the rebels being better equipped than him.

Piett was still regarding Veers with some animosity for challenging his commitment to the Empire, which Veers found unsettling since Piett had an outwardly docile disposition and anger was not one of the emotions he was known to exhibit. A few moments of stony silence followed and then Piett excused himself to retire to his temporary quarters. Needa was called away not long after to answer a message from his ship, leaving Veers and Jerjerrod at the table to watch the floating form of Motti at the other end of the room.

"Out with it, then," invited Veers when he had double checked that they were not within view of any recording devices and that all droids were out of earshot.

"With what?" asked Jerjerrod innocently.

"With whatever it is you're obviously struggling not to tell me."

"With good reason. The information I would like to tell you is dangerous enough that it could mean my life if I inform the wrong people." Veers stared pointedly, but Jerjerrod shook his head. "Those two individuals already know and in any case, I would not be able to hide this information from either of them. One of them came to deliver this news in person not even three days ago. If I were to tell you, I would need your solemn oath that you will never breathe a word of it to another living soul. I have never been more serious in my life and you know I am not one for the dramatics. I hesitate to tell you, but of the few men who know me, you are the one whose judgment I do not fear."

Normally, Veers found prolonging the divulging of certain information to be irksome at best and an utter waste of time at worst. Prisoners often took much too long to get to the point of the subject as if it would buy them a few more precious moments of life when all the flourish and wordiness only succeeded in grating on his nerves. For Jerjerrod, though, he would make an exception purely based on the fact that his interest was piqued.

"Your word, Maxim."

"My word," said Veers, wondering just what he was agreeing to.

Jerjerrod went on to explain in much shorter detail that Lord Vader had come to the Death Star at the behest of the Emperor to heavily monitor the commander due to the fact that the Sith's source of power had been detected in Jerjerrod. The Emperor had not yet decided if Jerjerrod was a threat or an asset.

"So your extreme reaction today on the battlefield?"

"I had no control over myself. I could see what was happening, but it seemed like a dream to me, an extremely angry dream. It didn't feel real, but I knew I wanted to kill that man."

"You certainly did that."

"No, I massacred him. I shot him multiple times even though he was dead after the first shot."

"What precisely made you react in such a manner?"

"I don't know. I was standing there gasping for breath one moment, then I heard Conan call for help, and the next thing I remember, I had killed the rebel."

"There's your answer, then. If you can connect to the emotions of those you are closest to, your body reacted to the attack on Conan. He was in pain and you knew you wanted to help, but your body made the decision for you before your brain was ready to accept that decision."

"Instinctive, you mean."

"Impulsive. Lorth did the same today, shooting a disarmed man whom I intended to keep alive for questioning. Acting before thinking, without consideration for the ramifications. I would advise you to not allow that to happen again. If you are so reckless as to latch onto emotions as often as you feel them–"

"I do not use the Force recklessly," Jerjerrod corrected. "Until Lord Vader explained it to me, I had no idea that I was even using it in the first place. I was only wondering why I could so strongly feel the emotions of those around me when he told me and since then, I've tried to suppress any urging or temptation to connect with the Force at all."

"Is it so awful for you to use that power if it's within your means? Most men in your position would do unspeakable things if it meant possessing such power."

"I cannot allow it to control me or try and become more than I already am with its assistance. Lord Vader made it quite clear what will become of me if I grow too powerful, and so I've done my best to suppress any inkling of the Force, but I had less than no control over my body today, and I have no idea how to prevent such a thing from happening again."

"I would have thought the solution was clear; detach yourself from your emotions. Do not allow yourself to be influenced by what you feel for others," said Veers stoutly, though he was aware of how cold he sounded in his delivery and therein was the root of his displacement from the others. He did not allow himself to feel as they did or to let his judgment be influenced by anyone else. He had no weaknesses in that regard, but while his fellow officers saw his commitment as a curse, he saw it as solidification that he was in the right profession. He was a model soldier and there was a reason why he had risen above the others in Lord Vader's favor.

Jerjerrod was considering him with what almost could be described as pity and Veers was quick to correct his assumptions. "It is a fulfilling life, knowing what greater purpose I am serving."

"By the same token, it seems quite empty to me."

"You would be wise not to say such things aloud and incorrect to arrive at that conclusion."

"I would hope that you are more convincing when you tell Lord Vader the same thing."

For the first time in his living memory, Veers felt a cold sweat prickle down his spine. Jerjerrod's delivery had been nonchalant and definitely not a threat, but the implication that he could sense what Veers would reveal to no one was a terrifying thing to consider. The commander claimed to be able to sense strong emotions from those he knew best, yet Veers had spent decades practicing the art of concealing everything, even from the Sith. He was a military man through and through, dedicated to the cause, unwavering, stone cold…and yet Jerjerrod, with his limited knowledge of the Force, was able to sense what he thought he had buried.

"One more thing I might mention is that I heard you today," added Jerjerrod, staring at his empty tankard with almost haunting fascination. "You were trying to tell me without speaking aloud to move my head so you had a clear shot. I don't believe it was your thoughts I heard, but your will, because you were fixated so strongly on it at that moment. You desperately wanted me to move, yet you couldn't say so, and I heard you, which I believe was possible because of how I am more attuned to those I consider friends. You wanted me to be able to hear you, and I did, as I do now."

"I think you've explained yourself enough," said Veers shortly, indicating that their conversation was over. "If you are waiting for some validation for your actions today, I have none to give."

"I understand. I only needed someone to know," said Jerjerrod, turning in his seat to show that he would be the one waiting for Motti and that Veers could excuse himself.

"You don't believe your fellow naval officers deserve to know what their commanding officer has become?" asked Veers with a glance at Motti's unresponsive form.

"I am the same as I ever was, but I don't believe that they will see it that way. I judge based off of how you just reacted just now when I told you that I know when you are lying. How do you imagine they would feel if they discovered that I might be able to do to them what Lord Vader did to Admiral Ozzel? No, I will keep this information undisclosed." He didn't add, but rather pointedly looked to Veers for verification that his secret would be kept safe.

Veers considered vocally reaffirming that he would hold his silence, but if Jerjerrod was as perceptive as he now claimed to be, he would know what Veers's intentions were.