Chapter 34

Virta watches as the dumb cow takes the pistol. Exel had doubts that she would, but Virta was certain of his abilities to get into her head, manipulate her to be exactly where she will need to be.

You don't have to be force-sensitive to feel the conflict churning within Slake. He took everything from her, humiliated her, brought her lower than any other pilot in the history of the Empire, and now, he's offering it all back.

Just as Virta anticipated, Slake hesitates in front of him, struggling to decide if she'll pull the trigger on this four-armed freak. He reaches into his pocket and thumbs the cap off the syringe, eyeing the spot on the back of her neck where he will inject her. Virta is already imagining just how pleased Nixus will be with his performance when Slake's left hand suddenly shoots behind her at a strange angle, open palm pointed at the room's control panel.

Somehow, from three meters away, Slake kills the lights.

The room goes black.

Sounds of a struggle, and then Virta sees a flash that briefly illuminates a stormtrooper's helmet from the inside, as though someone tucked the barrel under the faceplate and fired. Virta scrambles backward trying to find the room panel.

Another shot and a scream. Decidedly human. Decidedly male. The Wookiee issues a deafening roar in this cramped dark space. Virta is vaguely aware that he has shat his trousers. Slapping the wall, he still can't find the room's control panel. Where the hell is it!? Where!?

A cracking of bone from behind him and a gargling scream muffled under a helmet. Then a final laser blast, and a crumpling of armor.

Virta is in the dark. The room is silent.

"Troopers? Sound off!"

Nothing.

"Sound off for fuck's sake! Now!"

He drops the syringe and fumbles for the swagger stick on his belt.

It's not there.

The sound of Virta's own panting fills the room. "LIGHTS. COMPUTER. TURN ON THE FUCKING LIGHTS! OPEN THE DOOR NOW!"

"What's the matter, Vice Admiral?" Slake's voice. A whisper behind him. He spins and swings at her, hitting only a shelf of food, knocking cans to the floor.

The Wookiee snarls.

"Oh Gods, I'll give you whatever you want! Just don't hurt me!" He's blubbering, the words crowded out by sobbing he can't get under control.

The lights go on. Slake's in his face.

"No deal."

She fires her carbine and blows his knee all over the floor. Virta hits the ground before the lower half of his left leg does.

"FUUUUUCCCK!" The pain is rich and textured, white hot and rampant, all encompassing, pulsing up his leg and threatening to stop his very heart. Virta cries on the floor, closes his eyes tight, and wishes for this to be over.

He whimpers. Slake leans down over him, while he's vaguely aware of the Wookiee helping Gormaanda to her feet on the other end of the room.

"Here's the thing, Virta. I'm gonna hurt you more." Her voice is different than when she's obedient, "yes sirring" herself through her day. More urban. A Corellian accent. Mo-ah.

"NOOO. DON'T. HELP! HELP ME!"

Slake puts the barrel of the carbine to his other knee. He stops screaming. The pain is unbearable, two wounds like it would surely drive him mad. "Thing is, Virta, this is a pantry. The door seals tight to keep food fresh over the long, long haul. Trust that nobody's hearing shit out there."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"

She holds up his swagger stick. "Deactivate the slave collars."

"You mean indentures," he corrects. Force of habit.

"I mean slaves, motherfucker. Do it, or you're going to face… how'd you put it? 'Immeasurable suffering.'"

"Okay! Okay! Give me the stick."

Slake looks at him. "Shock them, and things will go very poorly for you."

"If I do this, you'll let me go?" Virta feels desperate, clawing for anything that can save him.

"Sure."

Virta looks Slake deep in her brown eyes, they're full of menace, rage. "Please. Just spare me, okay? I don't care what you do with Exel, Tav, anyone, frankly. Just… don't kill me."

"Unlock every collar on the ship, and I will. I promise."

He believes her. He holds out his hand. She hands him the stick. He presses the blue and green buttons at once. "Deactivate all collars. Unlock, release, detach."

The collars on the Wookiee and Gormanda kerchunk, and drop from their necks, clattering on the floor. He hands the swagger stick back to Gormaanda, having done his part. He's beginning to think through the pain. He knows he's in shock. But he's strong. He can plan his next move.

"Good job," Slake says. "What's about to happen to you next is for Pyre." At pointblank range, she blasts Virta in the stomach with the carbine. Agony blooms fresh in his guts as he looks down and sees a flaming hole in his belly, wet and charred black. Virta tries to scream but he makes no sound.

She shoots him again in the shoulder. She blows off his remaining foot. She takes his left arm at the elbow. Virta writhes in torment so expansive that it defies time, thought.

Slake fires again. And again. Keeps firing. Virta loses count of the shots before he fades out, suffering immeasurably.