ADMIRAL MOTTI
It left a sour taste in their mouths to walk away from Veers and follow the Jedi in as clear of a display as anything that they were about to go their separate ways and yet somehow, Motti had never felt so uneasy about a decision as this one to leave Veers behind. He certainly did not throw his full support behind the rebels after one conversation during which he had been rescued and promised to be held accountable for Tarkin's crimes, but he had come to the realization that he could not return to the life he had known and could not hope for a chance of surviving without lending his assistance if not his loyalty to the rebels. Unless he single-handedly ended the rebel threat to the Empire, he could never go back or Vader would kill him on sight.
As a man who did his best to make the situation work for him, Motti was prepared to damn several of his principles and morals just to survive, but he was not looking forward to the conversation he knew was coming. If he had it his way, he would have been thoroughly uncooperative with the rebels in open defiance, but now that he knew that he was to be given a trial and that his level of cooperation could heavily impact the outcome of that trial, he had to grit his teeth and pretend that he had seen the error of his ways.
It did occur to him that the Jedi might be able to see through him instantly, but he prided himself in being an adequate liar when he could control himself enough to not let his emotions be seen on his face. He also had to take into account the fact that Jerjerrod would know if he was lying and likely call him out on it since it seemed the commander had completely handed his fate and allegiance over to the rebels.
Motti could not blame him, as much as he wanted to. Jerjerrod had not asked for this outcome any more than Motti had and Jerjerrod would likely have a higher bounty on his head if the Empire discovered that he had survived since he was an actual threat and Motti was–as Skywalker had put it–a nuisance. Jerjerrod was trying to salvage something in this burning pile shit-filled unfairness because that was how his mind worked; he was a critical thinker, not a verbal warrior like Motti.
Skywalker led them into one of the huts attached to the main platform and bade them sit, but none of them did since they were all on edge after the way in which they had left Veers and the ultimatum they knew was coming. The Jedi seemed to guess their unease and went ahead without preamble.
"As high-ranking officers, you have access to information that we need. I won't demand you give it to me, but I will be blunt when I tell you that by refusing, it will be added to the charges stacked against you when the time comes for a trial."
"Which is as good as demanding that we give you the information," said Piett calmly, but pointedly.
"I'm still asking. You will not be tortured or interrogated for information if you decide not to tell me, but you will be detained and held captive until such a time comes that we're able to send you to trial. You'll be treated fairly, but you won't be allowed out of this campsite."
"You must understand that that is an extremely difficult decision to make right here and now," Piett continued.
"For you, perhaps, and definitely for your fellow admiral, but the commander has already made up his mind, haven't you?" The Jedi appealed to Jerjerrod.
"Not without terms," said Jerjerrod. "I know that you will want codes, plans, schematics, and the like. I know you mean to take the bunker, disable the shield generator, and destroy the Death Star stationed above this moon. I know that to give you this information, it could very well bring about the end of the war, but that in doing so, I am putting millions more lives at risk. For three years I have been in charge of construction of the Death Star and I have thousands of men on board who put their full trust in me. I cannot in good conscience condemn them."
Motti couldn't say he was completely surprised by this, but he was puzzled. Jerjerrod had proven that he cared for his friends; with Veers surviving the bridge and confirming what Jerjerrod had told Motti before, it was only Needa whose death was on Jerjerrod's hands and Motti could not fault him for that since Needa was past the point of suffering. The commander cared for them and for the men under his command, but when he had been shot down, those men aboard the Death Star ceased to be his and he now owed them nothing, yet he still had their best interests at heart.
Jerjerrod was not meant for this life. True to form, he was an architect, a creator, by all accounts, a peaceful man, and not at all cut out for the life of an Imperial who had to make such difficult decisions as the ones he recently had had to make.
"You're not so ignorant to believe that they all can be spared because when it comes time to battle, each and every man serving the Empire will fight to kill and if Vader has labeled you a traitor, they'll also see you as one," said Skywalker.
"I understand that, but I want your word that when the time comes, you will allow me to broadcast a mass evacuation order. I want your word that my men will be given a chance to surrender and spared. There are men on board that battle station who have never seen battle and never will: maintenance crews, janitors, medics, so many men who took work to provide for their families. Not every man who serves the Empire has a blaster in hand and most of them are innocent. You will have my full cooperation if you look me in the eye and swear on your life and the lives of your friends that you will allow me to do what I can to save my men. These are my terms, and I stand by them."
Skywalker revered Jerjerrod as told by the thin but understanding smile he gave the commander. "You started out on the wrong side of the war, Commander. If more men thought like you, we would never have reached this point."
"I am just a man forced into making decisions that were not mine to make and which cost men their lives. I have seen enough of that."
"I agree, and I will do everything within my power to ensure the least amount of bloodshed."
"Those are my conditions as well," said Piett. Motti had expected the admiral to put up more of a resistance and not be so easily won over by an empty promise. The entire point of gaining forbidden information was to destroy those weapons that caused such devastation and the people who created them. Skywalker could make all the promises he wanted, but Motti did not have high hopes for the survival of all those men aboard the Death Star.
"What terms do you have, Admiral?" Skywalker asked Motti after Motti had remained silent with nothing to add.
"I have none, as you have nothing to offer me. Nothing that I would risk my life and standing with the Empire for, that is."
Jerjerrod groaned and Piett covered half of his face with his hand in exasperation. Motti was somewhat amused that the two of them had such a telling reaction to what he believed to be his own predictable behavior. They knew that following the conversation with Veers that Motti had not been won over either way, but still had high animosity for the rebels.
"I apologize for my companion," said Jerjerrod. "He can't respect the rules of a conversation."
"I'm respecting the rules; I don't have to respect him or anyone here not in Imperial uniform," Motti corrected with a glance over the Jedi's attire.
"Do you get some sort of enjoyment out of arguing? Is this in any way entertaining for you to get under the skin of every person you talk to? I told you earlier and I'll tell you now that if you can't contribute anything useful to the conversation, shut the hell up, or I will make you."
Motti would very much have liked to add Or what? but Skywalker seemed to guess his rebuttal and answered for Jerjerrod. "Even without proper training, he could throttle you like Vader did if you push him far enough."
"No infraction is worth throttling a man," said Motti quickly to disguise his fear.
"No, but I will hit you," Jerjerrod promised. "Unless the next words out of your mouth are helpful, shut it."
"I think he'll make good on that threat; I'd do as he says," offered Skywalker.
"You can influence people to do as you say," Motti pointed out. "Grand Moff Tarkin told me that the Jedi used this technique to manipulate a conversation. What's to prevent you from doing that to me to get me to cooperate?"
"I can influence the weak-minded or rather, those who don't have the will for independent thought," said Skywalker. "I could trick many of those stormtroopers laying out there into telling me everything they know, but it would be useless information. If I thought I could make any of you do the same, I would have by now, but I can't and I won't because I was listening to that entire conversation you had with your friend the general and judging by all of that, I know the four of you are strong-willed. I know a part of you wants to tell me all you know, but moral obligation prevents you from doing so. You're still scared of what could happen to you if you find yourself back in Vader's hands and he finds out that you told us rebels everything."
"Our fears are well-founded," said Piett. "Vader has a penchant for disposing of officers who he deems incompetent or a threat."
"That's where those scars came from?" guessed Skywalker with a nod at Motti's neck. "Were you deemed incompetent or a threat, Admiral?"
Instinctively, Motti's hand jumped to the bruising there, but he lowered his hand quickly and said, "You were the one who called me a nuisance and Vader is of the same mind. He has little patience for men who challenge or question him."
"I was given that impression. It angers him when men don't fear him."
That was the greatest understatement of the century. Vader wasn't angry that Motti spoke back to him; he was angry that Motti's reasoning for speaking back was because Motti had valid points. Motti doubted that Skywalker knew the first thing about Vader's murderous tendencies.
"And this observation is based on what fact?"
"Vader is my father, as I discovered a little less than a year ago when I met him face to face for the first time. In that limited interaction, I learned a lot about him and from my master, I learned more, including how my father did not even know of my existence and that he still doesn't even know about my sister."
"Your sister?" repeated Piett. "Who–?"
"Don't tell me," said Motti, closing his eyes in resignation. "It's her, isn't it?" Before Skywalker could answer, Motti rounded on Jerjerrod. "Did you know?"
"I figured it out about ten seconds before you did, so there was no Force guidance telling me that," answered Jerjerrod somewhat testily, annoyed that every single action had to be questioned by Motti as if it had direct correlation to the Force.
"Fraternal twins, I'm guessing?" said Motti, ignoring the second part or Jerjerrod's answer.
"Yes, we're twins."
"You're nothing alike. You're reasonable and relatively calm and she's a hate-filled cannon about to explode at any moment."
"That's because you blew up her home-planet, not mine."
"Does she know that Vader is her father?"
"I told her a few nights ago."
"Wonderful. Ironic that your sister harbors such loathing for me when Vader was also in the room when Tarkin destroyed Alderaan, yet I'm the one she takes her anger out on. The gene that hates me seems to run strongly in your family and now makes much more sense."
"I don't hate you–yet. Don't give me a reason to. My sister's planet was destroyed and stormtroopers found my home on Tatooine and murdered my aunt and uncle, so both of us have more than enough reason to not want anything to do with Imperials, yet I have learned to let go of my hatred, as it leads to the dark side of the Force and I will not become a replica of my father. There will come a time when I will be able to train my sister, but she has even less experience in using her powers than you do, Commander. If you provide me with the information I need and if you're dedicated to learning how to control and use the Force to do good, I will help you. If you don't learn how to control your abilities, you'll be tempted by the dark side, and if Vader discovers that you've survived, he might bring you before the Emperor to turn you into a shell of what you used to be. I am willing to help you prevent that, but you have to dedicate yourself to helping me in return."
Motti did not take kindly to being set aside once again since he was not gifted (or perhaps cursed) with the use of the Force, and he would not be passed over again in favor of Jerjerrod.
"And what would you offer us, those of us who aren't possessed by the Force?"
"I could convince my sister to go easy on you during your trial."
"Fair enough. "
"We don't have the time that I had and I'm no Jedi Master, but I can teach you what I know in the hope that it'll help you survive in a fight with Vader, if it came to it."
"Forget Vader," Motti cut in and then gestured at Jerjerrod. "He needs to know how to fight at all. He was almost strangled by one of your people and dragged off by a condor dragon. His sense of self-preservation is nonexistent."
"Your vote of confidence is overwhelming," Jerjerrod muttered. "As you can see for yourself, Commander, we are naval men, not soldiers. We had military training many years ago with the understanding that we would never have to use it. If you would train me, it is only fair that you give the admirals a fighting chance as well by whatever means necessary."
"Then I will train you all in the time we have."
"And you would do that without complete assurance that I would fight on your side if it came to battle?"
"There is nothing any of you could do to surprise me. If you tried to steal my weapons or overpower me or run, I would be able to sense it before you did it and take preventative measures. I can't say if you would fight against or with me when the time comes if you were allowed into the battle and with a weapon, no less, but I can help you all to be ready for it when it comes because if you fight for us, you fight, you don't stand back and direct troops."
"You do realize that we've fought against your people already and shed blood?" said Piett with full transparency that Motti wanted to slap him for.
"As I've killed many of yours. Millions, in fact, if you count that it was my shot that blew up the Death Star."
"Yes, do remind us of that, as we've quite forgotten," said Motti, unable to help himself.
"And you had a hand in destroying Alderaan and all the people who lived there. Consider us even. Now, do you want my help or not?"
In truth, Motti did not want the Jedi's help. He did not want to learn to fight against fellow Imperials and stormtroopers by learning rebel techniques, but he knew that he would not last through another battle on the dumb luck that had been with him thus far. For his own survival, he had to learn one way or another and the Jedi need not know that he was still contemplating which side he would ultimately fight for when the time came.
/ /
Not for the first or even fiftieth time, Motti fell hard on his back, though this time he remained where he had fallen, staring up at the canopy far above and wondering how his life had come to this. He had been one of the highest ranking officials in the Imperial fleet and was now a foot soldier in the rebel army having his ass handed to him by a Jedi.
"You weren't even trying that time," admonished Skywalker as he stood above Motti with a deactivated riot baton. "At least in the commander I see improvement, but for claiming to be better at hand-to-hand combat than him, you're proving yourself wrong every time."
For the past half hour of day five of relentless drills and mock fights, Motti had been singled out to duel against Skywalker both in bare-knuckled brawling and with melee weapons while Jerjerrod and Piett were able to take a well-earned break and watch him make a complete fool of himself. The humidity was hell on Motti's lungs, he was bruised and sore all over, and his pride had taken the greatest sting yet in having his failure put on display for the entirety of the rebel army to see since the Imperial sessions had become something of a spectacle for the rebels to gawk at while they waited for their next move.
Motti, Jerjerrod, and Piett were the only soldiers given permission to prove their commitment to the rebel cause while all others both officers and troopers, both wounded and able bodied were kept in confinement. While Jerjerrod's connection with the Force had allowed him to follow the Jedi's instructions with precision and Piett's attention to detail had made up for what he lacked in physical strength, Motti was having to fight against the assumption that his performance against the rebels in the ambush and the condor dragon were just a stroke of luck.
Watched closely by General Solo, Princess Leia, the Wookie, and two droids, Motti did not care for the ever-present audience as Skywalker threw him down into the dirt time and again.
"Forgive me if I don't have the reflexes of a Jedi. My training concluded some eighteen years ago, likely before you were born," said Motti spitefully as he rubbed at his tailbone.
"I was five then, which would put you at about seventeen if you were graduating from the Academy at that time? A long time to be out of practice, but your natural survival instincts come back to you, as does your training, when you need it most."
"That's obviously not now."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I'm not in danger right now, so those survival instincts you speak of are nowhere to be found."
"Don't be so sure of that," said the princess dangerously.
"If you'd like to come out here and pit yourself against me, you're more than welcome," Motti invited swiftly. "I won't hold back just because you're a woman."
"It seems that even an untrained woman could best you right now," she shot back. "You should see if you might be able to win against a child "
"Conan, no," said Jerjerrod sternly as Motti started forward with the full intention of throwing the princess down in the dirt where she belonged. Both Solo and the Wookie drew their firearms as Motti approached, but Jerjerrod stepped between them.
"Get back into fighting stance."
"For what? So they all can have a laugh at me? I'm not going to improve if I'm just a source of entertainment for them. I'll not stand here to made into a spectacle."
"I don't know what you Imperials do for entertainment, but we don't enjoy watching men struggle and suffer," said Solo somewhat accusingly.
"We're Imperial-raised, we haven't the luxury of entertainment. I don't think happiness is a word we associate with our existence," said Piett plainly.
"The admiral is right about not improving with an audience, though," said Skywalker. "Leia, you, Han, and Chewie give us some space for a while, will you?"
"If he can't fight under stress just from having someone watching him, he's no use to us out in the field and therefore, a liability," reasoned the princess with a dirty look at Motti.
"Then let's all just look the other way whenever he's about to fight someone," suggested Solo with a roll of his eyes.
"Or is it just me that makes you nervous?" the princess asked Motti.
"Don't flatter yourself, Your Highness. As a man who has lived under the Emperor and been in close encounters with Vader, I handle stress quite well and your presence isn't nearly enough to cause me any stress. What you are doing is making me angry, which is quite different."
"Mistakes are made due to anger and anger can only lead to failure," said Skywalker. "You have to clear your mind."
"Let me just do that."
"I can teach you."
"Forgive me, Commander, but I don't have faith that you can. You've spent, what, a year, perhaps two in tutelage of how to use the Force? Not enough time to become a master yourself or to be teaching anyone how to perfect their craft and certainly not long enough to teach those who have no connection to the Force on how to clear the mind as the Jedi and Sith can."
"It's thanks to your former master that I was only able to train for those two years, otherwise I would have been trained from a young age and not by an exiled Jedi master on some desolate planet," responded Skywalker cooly.
"You say that as if I had something to do with your misfortune, as if the Emperor confided all of his plans in me and I agreed with them."
"You obviously did to some extent to have joined the Imperial fleet and risen to the rank that you did. You say you were seventeen when I was five, which would make you twelve when I was born, old enough to remember the fall of the Republic. The Emperor would have painted this day in a different light, twisted the facts by claiming that the Jedi made an attempt on his life, and needed to be wiped out. The day before I was born, the Emperor sent Vader and thousands of clone troopers into the Jedi Temple and massacred every single individual inside, including children. Children were identified much earlier back then, almost in infancy, if they had a strong connection to the Force, unlike now where Commander Jerjerrod was identified well into his thirties, perhaps early forties. If the Commander had been found to be Force-sensitive, he would have been in that Jedi Temple, and he would have been murdered by the Emperor because of what he might become."
The silence that filled the air following this dark statement was palpable. Somehow, it was easier to imagine the fall of the Republic and the Jedi Order from an outsider's perspective. Being told that the Jedi posed a threat, that they had grown too powerful and been corrupted, it was something Motti could accept without question because it did not affect him. But to hear it from Skywalker, he had certainly not been given all the facts, and to have it put into perspective that Jerjerrod might have been one of those children slaughtered in the Jedi Temple, that Motti himself could have been a child in that temple if he had been born Force-sensitive, it only fed his distaste for how the Sith dealt with things.
"So thanks to the Sith, I was not able to have full training. It's thanks to the Sith that I must now extend what I have learned in two years to the commander to make up for a lifetime of learning that neither of us were able to have. Two years, however, was more than enough to teach me that releasing the anger within you helps to open your mind to possibility. You can't succeed when you're focused, subconsciously or not, on harvesting anger."
"Then explain to me how I should empty my mind when that keeps staring at me as if hoping I'll drop dead of my own accord," said Motti with a violent jerk of his thumb at the princess who had perfected her glower in the short few days that she had been watching him.
"You're focusing your energy on finding a rebuttal to whatever she says to you instead of on finding a way to block my next attack. It's not important for you to have the last word against her; it's important that you learn how to stay on your feet longer than three seconds as if your life depended on it. Come try again and this time, I want you to forget that anything or anyone exists except for me."
Motti was sorely tempted to tell the Jedi to piss off, but his exhaustion would not even allow him to do so. He wanted a rest, but knew that if he did not manage to accomplish something here today, he would go to bed angry, wake up angry, and have an even harder time tomorrow. He took his place in front of Skywalker, activated his Z6, and took up an offensive stance with his non-dominant foot forward.
"Your goal isn't to beat me yet," Skywalker explained. "We're just focusing on having you hold your ground. It helps to visualize your goal; you want to survive while your opponent will want to win, which are two very different things. You have to want to live for a greater purpose than yourself because if all you have to live for is your next breath, you'll die much quicker. Live for the selflessness of it, not the greed. To empty your mind, you can't hate who you're fighting; you have to have no emotion whatsoever. You want to beat your opponent because they are an obstacle, not because of any emotional ties you have to them."
Trying to bear all this in mind, Motti lifted the Z6 baton in his right hand until it was parallel to his forearm and lunged. He made an overhead swipe and as Skywalker side-stepped the attack and brought his own baton up to shock Motti in the stomach, Motti swiveled his blade to parry the counter-attack. Distracted by his success, Motti did not see the Jedi lift his foot and kick him in the chest until the blow had already been struck and he stumbled back. Skywalker brought his baton down to club Motti over the head and Motti threw up his blade to block the blow at the last second but the force with which the Jedi matched blades with him sent him flat onto his back and he knew the fight was over.
Deactivating his baton, Skywalker offered out his hand to Motti to help him stand, but Motti refused it, rolling over onto his stomach and coming to his feet in frustration.
"You could have side-swept my legs," Skywalker pointed out.
"You would have seen that coming," Motti countered. "If you were any other man, I might have made that move, and therein lies the problem; I know I can't beat you. I know you're holding back and that you could take my head clean off at any time if you wanted. You're just toying with me."
"The whole point of training is that one person is always superior to the people being trained."
"Our training was against simulations, never people, so that is a new concept to me."
Skywalker beckoned to Piett. "Fight him, then. The two of you are more evenly matched."
"In what universe?" asked Motti and then with only a small amount of guilt, added to Piett, "No offense."
"I think he means that we're both awful combatants," said Piett shamelessly.
Piett swung the riot baton with no warning and would have smacked Motti's skull and given him the worst sort of electric shock to his brain if Motti hadn't leaned as far back as his flexibility would allow. He misstepped and fell, but as Piett moved to hit him while he was down, Motti tucked his legs in, pushing off of the ground with his hands and arching his body backwards. He didn't know how, but the next moment, he was back on his feet.
"What did you just do?" asked Piett, standing stunned with his baton held loosely at his side.
"Your guess is as good as mine," answered Motti.
"The real question is: can you do it again?" called the princess in what sounded more like a dare than an encouraging invitation.
"On command? No."
"Then consider it a lucky move."
"Do you expect me to fall down of my own accord and try to replicate whatever I just did? It was instinct," Motti protested.
"It was luck, and fate does seem to favor you more than you deserve."
Jerjerrod stepped in to come to Motti's defense. "If I may, Your Highness, this back-and-forth accomplishes nothing and is only putting both of you on edge. Believe me when I say that if you are seeking to punish Admiral Motti, he has been punished several times over and has earned respite at least until his trial."
Regarding Jerjerrod with the smallest measure of respect that she did not hold for Motti, the princess shook her head. "I don't think you get to determine what I feel is enough punishment, Commander. He could've been punished a hundred times over for what he did, but until he feels remorse for it, it'll never be enough."
Motti looked down and away to try and control the rage building within him. She was deliberately goading him on, trying to get him to react and make a mistake in drawing a weapon on her. Any reason to suspect that he might actually harm her and the rebels would riddle him with so much blaster fire that anyone would be able to see clean through his stomach.
Just try it, her eyes warned.
It caused him physical pain in his gut to spit out the words, but he was trying his damndest to be civil here when she refused to return the courtesy.
"Your Highness, my quarrel at this exact moment is not with you, and I would appreciate you not speaking if you have nothing constructive to say."
"You made your quarrel with me when you stood there and did nothing to prevent my people dying or to prevent Tarkin and Vader from torturing me. If that's enough to anger you, good! You finally feel something other than complete emptiness. You're angry with me for making a joke of you; imagine how angry I am that you murdered my people."
"Your Highness, I highly suggest you walk away–" began Jerjerrod, but Motti cut him off.
"No, let her stay." He did not need Jerjerrod speaking for him. This was his fight; the princess hated him, not Jerjerrod.
The Jedi wanted him to release his anger? In hell. The princess could not bait him; he refused to be toyed with just to satisfy her need for revenge. If she wanted to see the result of his anger, she would. He could not lash out at the individual who deserved his wrath, so he redirected it toward the one who stood unwittingly in his way.
Moving in with three long strides, Motti crashed his baton down and Piett only just managed to block it in time. Motti knew better than to haphazardly hack away and hope to land a blow, so he was methodical in his next move because he wanted to show all of those rebels who were watching that they had best not find themselves against him in battle if they were going to continue to mock him.
Piett anticipated his next move and shifted his baton sideways to block an attack at waist level, but Motti brought his knee up into Piett's gut and swiped his baton in at a diagonal angle where it made contact with Piett's shoulder. Piett's left arm went numb at his side as the shock waves of electricity coursed through it and he held his baton blade in front of him as a shield now that he could not swing it with the strength of both arms.
Motti breached the barrier, knocked Piett's baton aside, and grabbing a fistful of Piett's new rebel uniform, slammed him down on the ground. Piett's legs flew up and nearly clipped Motti in the back of the head with the force. When he hit the ground, Piett emitted a pained and winded gasp of air, but Motti's grip on Piett's uniform was still tight and he had not struck the equivalent of a deciding blow. Skywalker had pulled back from pretending to deliver the mortal hit after Motti's twentieth failed duel, but this fight would not be brought to a halt until one of them decidedly ended the other.
"That's enough!" It was not Skywalker who called the fight off, but Jerjerrod, and as Motti tore his gaze away from where Piett still lay sore and disoriented, he saw the uncertainty and trepidation in Jerjerrod's eyes. "Let him up," Jerjerrod commanded, and it was not a friend telling a friend, but an officer giving an order.
Motti stepped back with adrenaline still coursing through him and making his fingers tingle with the need to be doing something. To control the twitching in his right hand, he grasped Piett's forearm and hauled him quite easily to his feet. It was almost laughable how little Piett weighed in comparison to Motti.
"That knee to the stomach was a low blow," Piett admonished, rubbing his midsection.
"I tried to fight fair before and it didn't end well for me," Motti reminded him with a gesture at his own back.
Skywalker took the baton from Motti, considering him curiously, but with caution as Jerjerrod took over examining Piett for additional damage. "That was all anger. Not directed at Admiral Piett, but at someone else."
"I can't imagine who that might be."
"You can't fight like that. You let your anger control you enough to hurt a friend and blind you to his pain. Did you even see him? Did you see that you had beaten him and that his face was in full surrender? Or were you blinded by rage enough that you didn't even know your opponent was your friend?"
"I knew it was him," said Motti shortly.
"Because the dark side can make you forget those you care about enough to hurt them."
Motti was having none of that. After everything, he couldn't be so unfortunate as to have been cursed with hyper-awareness of the Force. The very thing that had attempted to kill him could not be now influencing him. "The Force doesn't exist in me, Jedi; it can't control me."
"The Force exists in everyone and everything, but it doesn't have to manifest in something like visible powers. It can affect you even if you aren't aware of its presence, and you have to make yourself aware of it to prevent it from taking over and turning you to the dark side. You can still make that fall and go down that path even if you aren't a Sith."
"I've lived on that path for most of my life; I know what it looks like, and my anger is purely my own, not from some outside influence," said Motti stoutly.
"Not entirely. Some of your actions were not your own, for instance, that move you did in the middle of the fight. I didn't expect you to be so agile. Your build suggests that you don't move quickly."
This was something of a sore spot for Motti since he took his appearance quite seriously and wanted to appear as fit as Veers ever did. He had struggled with this since he had lost such a significant amount of weight preceding his trial before the Emperor and was still trying to return physically to where he had been before. On top of that constant struggle, he did not need the Jedi commenting on his disproportionate appearance. "If you're suggesting that there's something wrong with my physique–"
"I'm saying that you're tall, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, and yet somehow underweight. Everything suggests that you would be clumsy and slow, but your reflexes just proved that assumption wrong. I would have expected that from your fellow admiral, certainly from the commander, but not from you. Commander Jerjerrod has more of the Jedi build: willowy, narrow, light-footed, but tall enough."
"Why is any of this relevant?"
"Because you should not have been able to move the way you did without outside help," said Skywalker with an obvious raise of his eyebrows.
"Let us agree to disagree. I want nothing more to do with this conversation."
"You'll be even less eager to participate in the next point of interest I have to bring up, because I'm not through with you just yet." Skywalker invited Jerjerrod and Piett back into the fold along with his sister, Solo, and the Wookie.
"I can't tell you exactly what our next move will be, but now that we have had about a week to regroup and recuperate, we have to make sure the Imperials at the bunker have no outside help. We know that those troops who were stranded on the other side of the bridge will have retreated to the outposts. What we don't know is exactly where those outposts are."
Motti doubted that if any troops were wounded, they would have been able to make it to the outposts. Only those with ample supplies and adequate transportation could have made it, which would not be many following the skirmish on the bridge. Each outpost was spaced out evenly in a semi circle at least fifty miles east of the bridge and twenty to thirty men guarded each one, not taking into account any stragglers that managed to make it on foot.
"I can only tell you that there are seven outposts. I can't say where they are, as I didn't deem that information important enough for what I believed was a short two-day stay on this moon," said Jerjerrod transparently. What he did not mention was that that was exactly the sort of information that Motti did know since he had a knack for memorizing maps and coordinates and wanted to know everything about Endor that he could before he stepped foot on the moon. If the rebels wanted to pick out every single outpost and overtake them by knowing where they were, how many men guarded each post, and what time the guard rotations switched, Motti had all of that information stored away in his brain.
And Jerjerrod was actively trying not to look at Motti since he knew that Motti knew and was doing his level best to not put that information on display but rather leave it up to Motti to volunteer that information.
"The general in charge of ground forces here on Endor would have had that information," offered Piett as if to close the matter down. "He was on the bridge when it detonated."
Here, Motti was once again surprised by Piett's actions. After the finality in breaking off contact with Veers, Motti assumed that Piett considered Veers and the Empire to be one and turned his back on the lot of them, so why was Piett actively trying to prevent the Jedi from discovering the information he needed when Veers was right up in the trees above them and could answer those questions? What did Piett owe Veers and why would he try to protect Veers from interrogation?
"The same general you severed ties with the night you arrived?" guessed Skywalker.
"It would do you no good to question him. He would die in service to the Empire rather than tell you anything. His loyalty knows no bounds and he would sell his soul as well as the souls of those he considered friends if it meant protecting the Empire," said Piett darkly.
"What's his name?"
"That is irrelevant."
Still protecting him. Still loyal to a fault. Motti wished he could envy Piett to have such unwavering discipline in his morals to not betray a friend even after cutting ties with that friend. Veers had disowned the three of them and yet, because he had asked them to not tell the rebels his name, Piett was respecting that wish, and for what?
"If you knew the location of the outposts, would you tell me?" Skywalker asked Piett.
"I would have no reason not to, but as with the commander, I did not look into it."
"Admiral?"
Motti realized the Jedi was now asking him if he had any information to add. If he had learned one thing from encountering Sith, it was to look directly (or as directly as possible given that it was impossible to meet the Emperor's eye and Vader's eyes were hidden behind his mask) into the eyes of those who wielded the Force, as they could sense a lie. He could lie now and say that he had no idea where the outposts were, but just by the expression on Skywalker's face, he knew that the Jedi could already sense the truth and by deliberately withholding information of this sort, Motti was striking another blow against himself.
"I know the coordinates," Motti found himself saying reluctantly. "I can point them out on a map."
"Or you could go with us to ensure they're correct. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that you're still in a probationary period and that we don't completely trust you. For all we know, these coordinates could be the foundations of an ambush. So, you'll come with us while we disable them and after, if you've proven yourself with the information, charges will be altered and dropped against you."
"I don't suppose I have the option to say no?"
"You always have a choice, but if we head into this and any of the information you give us is faulty and results in loss of life on our end, I can't protect you from what others will want to do to you."
Swearing inwardly and wishing he had just kept his mouth shut, Motti pulled his collar away from his neck as he chose his next words carefully. "I'll go, but I want a blaster. If things go awry for any reason and I'm left behind or captured, I won't be taken alive. I am not going back there under any circumstances. Is that clear?"
He could see that Jerjerrod and Piett wanted to interject, but he held up a hand to silence them and was pleased that they respected the notion.
"If it comes to that, I'll make sure you aren't taken captive," Skywalker promised.
"I'll go with you," said Jerjerrod.
"No, I can't keep my eye on all three of you and I don't trust that you're all ready for combat just yet," said Skywalker.
"You might ensure quicker surrender if we are there," Piett reasoned. "If they see officers and know they will be treated fairly, the troopers may throw down their weapons without any shots fired at all."
"I say again, I can't be keeping tabs on all three of you–"
"You gave your word, Commander," Jerjerrod reminded the Jedi. "The least amount of bloodshed. That extends to the men in the outposts, not just the ones in the bunker and in the fleet and on the battle station. All of my men. I don't like to overplay my importance in the fleet, but my face is widely recognized and if the men see me, they will surrender. I am trying to avoid a massacre, as would you if our situations were reversed. If it would ease your mind to have me go in binders with an armed guard, so be it, but I am going."
Solo and the princess had been listening to this exchange and now chose to come forward.
"He stays here," said the princess, pointing at Piett. "You can go, Commander."
"Now, wait just a moment," Piett protested. "Don't take my lack of statement for willingness to be left behind. I'm not one for grand proclamations and an all-commanding voice, but I will not stay back in camp when I could be making use of myself out there. My terms were the same as Commander Jerjerrod's; I reserve the right to help with surrender at every opportunity."
As if praying for patience with the three of them, the princess clasped her hands at her mouth and then asked, "You do see that your unwillingness to be split up gives me every indication that you're going to try something stupid once shots start to fly?"
"Look at me, Your Highness," invited Piett with a gesture at himself. Where the Imperial uniform had made his narrow form somewhat taller, the camouflage poncho that the rebels had him wearing dwarfed him. "I am at least three inches shorter than the required height for stormtroopers and at least thirty pounds lighter than almost every single rebel soldier I've seen, yourself excluded. My muscle mass is almost nonexistent and I have less than an hour of battle experience. I am not capable of–as you so eloquently put it– "trying something stupid". I will also volunteer myself to go in binders if it would make you feel better about the situation."
"He has a point," Solo said aside to the princess. "At least with that one, Chewie could probably throw him a few feet and it would kill him. He'd be the easiest to take down in a fight since he's the smallest of the three. Maybe not the worst fighter, but the one most ill-equipped to fight off a bigger opponent."
"Yes, thank you, General," said Piett sardonically.
"On one condition," said the princess, and Motti watched her brown eyes darken with anger, hate, and all the qualities that had turned her father into the man he was. "If any of you attempt to run, you'll be shot down without warning. If you try to send your men a message, you'll be shot down without warning. Any reason we have to doubt you, any reason you give us to think that you'll betray us, we shoot to kill. Knowing that, do you still want to come?"
"Do I appear uncertain?" challenged Jerjerrod.
"I understand, and I am coming," said Piett.
Motti said nothing, for he was the only one who did not want to come along, but the one who had to.