COMMANDER JERJERROD
"What did she say?" Piett asked Motti after Princess Leia had finished speaking with him.
"I think she's starting to tolerate me, as she damn well should after the turmoil she put me through today. She attracts danger and trouble like lightning to metal." said Motti, nursing his nose and once again looking deranged with the dark bruising beginning to form under his eyes.
"You say that like you've never been the cause of trouble before in your life," said Jerjerrod incredulously.
"I'm not going to dignify that statement with a response," said Motti carefully. "But I'll have you know that it wasn't my decision to end up with her. You'll recall the Jedi's warning to not run or we would be shot down, so I stood there like an idiot until she caught up with me, then we fled together."
"You should have stayed close."
"That's all well and good for you to say. What happened to you after that failed bit of military tactic blew up in our faces?"
"I also was separated and landed in the company of Chewbacca, though we weren't lost for as long as you were."
"How did you manage the language barrier?" asked Motti who seemed more than curious how Jerjerrod interpreted all those warbling noises and grunts the Wookie made.
"By nods and shakes of the head and a lot of gesticulating on his part. I believe he likes me."
"That would mean that you got left with the rest," Motti concluded, turning to Piett. "I never saw you come up after the Jedi dealt with the bastard who was trying to shoot you. I looked for you."
"Commander Skywalker found me just fine. We regrouped and managed to take the outpost while we waited for the rest of you and according to the log, they didn't signal for help, so as of yet, the other outposts don't know that the rebels are moving to dismantle all of them. But I wouldn't say that I was left with the rest of the squadron; more like held under close observation until you two returned, if you returned, and that was by General Solo's command, not Commander Skywalker's," said Piett, and then with a glance down at Motti's hand, asked, "What did you do to your hand? Let me see it."
"No, thank you. I'm only severely banged up after the events of today, so I think I'll just–"
"You fell off the speeder while it was in motion, according to the princess," Jerjerrod pointed out.
"That was intentional since it was about to explode," Motti interjected.
"-you landed hard enough to bruise and you took a stun gun to the chest and you broke your nose again. If you don't let us take a look at you, I'll sit on you and take a look at you anyway," Piett promised.
"All nine stone of you," said Motti waspishly.
"What happened that you don't want us to see?" asked Jerjerrod shrewdly, trying to grab Motti's hand to get a closer look at what had caught Piett's eye.
Motti twisted to keep his hand out of Jerjerrod's reach. "Nothing I can't take care of on my own."
Piett caught him around the wrist and held his hand up to the firelight to show Jerjerrod. "Dislocated finger," he said almost with a chuckle. "All that fuss over a dislocated finger?"
"Just one more injury to add to the growing list of calamities on my end," said Motti dismissively.
Jerjerrod knew how to deal with Motti when he was being childish and knew how best to distract him, so with a nod to Piett to follow his lead, he gave a convincing wince to show his support for the painful injury and took careful hold of it on the pretense of examining it. "You're lucky it's not a major limb. When did this happen?"
"Probably when I pulled that woman's ankle up from the riverbed," Motti mused, and Jerjerrod was pleased that Motti allowed him to continue holding his hand to leave an opening.
"This is what we mean about not being able to stay out of trouble," said Piett in a deliberate act to egg Motti on.
As Jerjerrod had hoped he would, Motti jumped to the defense. "Of course, I would have been better served just letting her drown right there in front of me and then getting blamed for it. Was I supposed to leave her there? Trying to do the right thing in the eyes of these blasted rebels and the thanks I get is to–"
Jerjerrod snapped Motti's finger back into place and Motti's already bloodshot eyes instantly watered as his knees buckled, he grabbed the front of Jerjerrod's tunic for support, and his head dropped in anguish as he choked through an unsteady and higher-pitched voice, "You–son–of–a– bitch… I–hate–you…that–fucking– hurt!"
Jerjerrod did not find amusement in Motti's pain, but he did have to fight to keep the smile off of his face at Motti's choice of words for coping with being tricked into letting his guard down. He allowed Motti to half-heartedly punch him a few times in the chest and when Motti stood up with unfallen tears in his eyes to try and swallow back the pain and weakness he was so adamant about not showing, Jerjerrod looked down to spare him the embarrassment.
"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Jerjerrod held up Motti's hand with the finger back in its place and Motti wrenched it back.
It was a mark of how the day had changed the rebel leaders' attitudes toward the three of them that they were allowed to walk back to camp without an escort, pick up their own dinner rations, and roam about freely without attracting glares from the rest of the rebels. Jerjerrod believed that Chewbacca had relayed something to General Solo to soften the hearts of the rebels who had not yet seen Jerjerrod, Motti, and Piett do anything of significance to prove their loyalty until today.
For those few hours that Jerjerrod and the Wookie had been separated from the rest of the group, Jerjerrod had set aside any negative thoughts he may have had about his situation and had tried to stick to yes or no questions to communicate with his companion. Chewbacca's nose had proven to be a useful asset and his sense of direction was significantly better than Jerjerrod's, so Jerjerrod had allowed the Wookie to lead for most of that time spent wandering back to the outpost. He had managed to prevent the Wookie from walking straight through a sinkhole by sensing a shift in the ground just ahead and yanking on Chewbacca's back fur with enough force to pull several patches out, but once the sinkhole was revealed, the Wookie seemed very forgiving. At one point Chewbacca had even assisted Jerjerrod in getting their bearings by lifting him with one hand (or was it paw?) and tossing him into the lower hanging branches of a tree with a gesture to scale the tree and report back what his findings were.
Their return to the outpost was met with relief from General Solo and Commander Skywalker, but not as much as Jerjerrod would have expected since they had not feared Chewbacca to be dead with the Wookie being more than capable of handling himself. Their worry was directed at the still missing princess and it was here that Jerjerrod had discovered from Piett that Motti was also missing. None of the captured troopers could confirm shooting Motti or the princess and so after dismantling the outpost and switching all communications so that any report came in on a specific frequency that the rebels could overhear, they headed back to the speeders and scanned the area as best as they could for life forces of human nature.
With Jerjerrod's return, General Solo seemed less likely to hold him and Piett responsible for the fiasco at the outpost since Piett had nearly been riddled with gunfire in the process and the Wookie had reported nothing untoward about Jerjerrod's behavior, but the fact remained that the woman who held the highest standing in the rebel army who had close connections with both the general and the Jedi was still missing and that the man she had singled out as her enemy among the Imperials was also conveniently missing.
As they sat at one of the ground campfires later that evening, Jerjerrod overheard General Solo swear to Commander Skywalker that if Motti came back without the princess, he would be shot on sight and Jerjerrod had then had to make a series of defensive statements on Motti's behalf during which he tried to remain calm but could sense the general wanting to lash out at him. The Jedi had to take his friend aside and calm him and then a scout reported movement on the far side of the river which sent them all crashing through the trees to the riverside to see both missing persons relatively and remarkably unscathed.
Jerjerrod decided not to tell Motti that General Solo had been planning on executing him, especially since Princess Leia spoke out in Motti's defense which was an act of a higher power, surely. They did not seemed especially friendly with one another, but their insults were far more tame and they almost seemed to have a mutual understanding. In any case, the manner in which the princess was talking to Motti was no longer fueled with hate but more annoyance than anything, which Jerjerrod had to consider to be a small victory.
He wanted to ask what had happened that the princess had not divulged because if he knew Motti, he knew that it had to have been something significant, but he was hesitant to pry because Motti hated being interrogated before he was ready. As the inquisitive man he was though, Jerjerrod was impatient in having to wait since now with the aid of the Force, he could feel that Motti had something pressing on his mind. The powerful surge of inner turmoil from Motti that he was picking up was only possible because now Motti's guard had dropped from the fatigue of having a sparring conversation all day with the princess.
Though perhaps not the most honorable thing to do in waiting until Motti was at his most vulnerable, it was still more admirable than trying to push through what little defenses Motti had without permission and so once they made their way to their bedrolls, Jerjerrod prepared to breach the subject. His question died in his throat, however, when he saw Motti peel off his Imperial tunic beneath his rebel poncho to reveal a massive bruise across his chest.
"Conan, what is that?" asked Piett, gaping at the flaming red circular shape.
"Painful, is what it is," said Motti without concern as he donned a regular black tunic. "A trooper shot me with a stun blast. I thought my lungs had collapsed for a moment, but it's better than what I thought was going to happen to me. The princess owes me for that one, among others."
This was as good of a segue to begin questioning Motti on the events of the day, though Jerjerrod was astonished that Motti was not making a greater fuss over his injuries since Motti was infamous for having a flair for the dramatic and after risking life and limb for a woman he supposedly had the deepest loathing for, the fact that he was not playing up his own heroics was extremely telling.
"I'm stunned by your actions today and not entirely in a negative way. You surprised me," said Jerjerrod in an open invitation for Motti to say more.
"Not as much of a complete self-centered ass as you originally thought?"
"Still an arse, not as self-centered," Jerjerrod agreed. "But when communications went dead, I assumed the worst until Commander Skywalker took me aside and instructed me on how to look for you."
"What do you mean look for me?"
"Feel for you. I could feel that you still existed somewhere. I could feel your life source, even if I couldn't locate you. The way he taught me to tell the difference was to try to sense someone I knew was alive like Firmus and someone I knew was dead like Lorth and then search for you in between, and I found you. But I was still not entirely certain that you were alive until I saw you with my own eyes and there was some trepidation on my part to see if you would come back with or without the princess."
"Let me guess; the general was going to let me take the blame if anything happened to her?" said Motti shrewdly.
"Something of that nature," said Piett evasively.
"Precisely why I didn't come back without her and why I had an absolutely miserable day taking every shot and hit meant for her so that imbecile couldn't pin anything on me. If I'd had it my way, though, none of us would be here right now."
There was the admittance Jerjerrod was waiting for but that he had hoped to not hear. He wanted to believe there was an innate goodness in everyone and wanted to believe it even moreso of his friends, but he had to constantly admit to himself that Motti was not a typical person's definition of a good man.
Speaking to the rolled up wad of muddy clothes he had just removed, Motti's eyes narrowed and his hands lifted as if holding a blaster. "I ran just out of sight of the bunker and turned back around. I saw a trooper trying to pin her down, but she broke free and started running toward me. I had her in my sights; my finger was on the trigger and I considered a hundred different reasons for being justified in my eyes if I were to shoot her. It would have given me short-lived satisfaction because I knew that even if they never found out that I was the one to kill her, they would pin her death on me all the same and that was if I managed to find my way back. I would have been damning myself and both of you if I did what I wanted to do today. And quite honestly, I don't know why I didn't. If I had seen her my first day on this moon, I would have fired without hesitation, but now I find myself second guessing everything I do. One thing I do know, though, and that is that the man who wanted to kill her is the man you claim to know."
To hear Motti speak of attempted murder without emotion of any sort was chilling. Jerjerrod had had reason to doubt before that Motti possessed a conscience, but now he was almost certain that Motti had some sort of moral deficiency. No one except sociopaths and psychopaths could talk about death as if it were nothing. Glancing at Piett, Jerjerrod saw that he was equally disturbed by Motti's confession.
"Why are you telling us this?" asked Jerjerrod even though he did not want to know the answer.
Motti chewed on the inside of his cheek and Jerjerrod could almost see his inner demons battling out to come up with a plausible answer until he landed on, "In truth, I'm not sure. Maybe because I had a hunch that you would find out anyway at some point and I'd rather you hear it now. The only explanation I can offer you as to why I even considered killing her instead of just running was that I was still filled with anger that that trooper had made a target out of Firmus. I think the troopers knew who he was the whole time and were trying to lure him in and get him to admit treason. They were playing with him and then hunting him, and that infuriated me."
"Where did this profound dedication to me come from?" asked Piett. "You didn't react half so violently during the rebel ambush on our first day."
"That was a fight for survival and I was caught off guard."
"Then what are you expecting that I'll say in response to this?" Jerjerrod questioned.
"I suppose I wanted to know if–knowing what you now know about the situation–if you would still have defended me to the other rebels or taken their side?"
"Have I ever not defended you? Even when I knew you were in the wrong? I suppose that makes me an imbecile, but a loyal one. I've spoken up for you against the Emperor, against Vader, and against the rebels, but if you openly are admitting that you would kill the princess if you had the chance–"
"That's not what I'm saying. I admit that I considered it, but that consideration has passed. I'm asking if you would condemn me for my actions because they would be wrong or support me because of your baffling insistence on protecting me."
"I don't know," said Jerjerrod quickly, for he knew it was better to answer in an instant than to let the question go unanswered for a time. "I don't know what I would do. I spoke up for you when I knew that you made the wrong decision but that that decision was made in error and had no malicious intent. Murdering someone, that's not something one can or should defend without very good reason. But you didn't kill her, so the question of whether or not I would take your side is hypothetical and should remain that way."
It was more of a suggestion than a command, but Jerjerrod couldn't believe that after the princess had slowly started to warm to Motti that he would then turn around and murder her. Still, Motti had done the unexpected today and an unpredictable Motti was an unfamiliar one, so Jerjerrod wanted to be sure that Motti heeded his suggestion.
"Should I have any reason to be more worried about you?"
"No reason but the one you give yourself," said Motti airily. "You work yourself up over me for nothing most of the time like today when the Jedi even showed you that you could feel if I was alive or not and you still didn't believe it. You're causing yourself to stress more than you should."
"Of course I was worried about you; I always worry about you. You've been a constant source of my sleepless nights and anxiety since we were boys. I can't help myself but to worry because that's what you're supposed to do where kin is involved and before you say a word–don't. I know what I said, and I didn't misspeak. I consider you two to be more of my family than my own because I've spent more years with you and knowing you than I spent in their company. I am allowed to consider you as family."
The subject was a delicate one for Motti since his own family had disowned him after their mortification had reached peak levels due to Motti's trial. They had shipped him off to the Academy at the first opportunity and though money had been no object, his interactions with them were artificial and not at all the warm, comforting ones that Jerjerrod had witnessed between other schoolboys. Piett's own family had come to see him often and Jerjerrod's father had been known to put in the odd appearance, but he never gave Jerjerrod the impression that his affection had to be earned like Motti's family had. The Academy had given Motti four friends who were as close to brothers as he would ever get, but then he had gone separate ways from them all and that could not have been beneficial for his mental health.
Perhaps that was why he insisted on doing everything himself and refused help almost religiously. With family abandoning him and his only friends scattered across the galaxy when he had been at his lowest, he had learned to not rely on anyone but himself.
"You shouldn't," said Motti after a time as he lay down on his side away from Jerjerrod. "It's only the people who are close to you who can let you down. I keep telling you that you'd be better off if you stopped giving a damn."
On that encouraging thought, Motti ended the conversation and though Jerjerrod was still very much awake, he could say nothing else. Piett gave him an exasperated shrug as if to say that he didn't know what prompted the confession Motti had made. With Motti already snoring between them, though, they decided to close the subject for the night.
Jerjerrod could see bits of starlight far, far above through the canopy as he lay on his back and not for the first time, felt that despite how small and insignificant he appeared to be, he had inadvertently set his friends on this path with him because of how the universe had chosen him among millions to give the gift of the Force to. It had not done him an abundance of good to know that he was in possession of abilities he had not even begun to fathom, but it had still happened and his actions had shaped the course of his future as well as his friends' futures.
Guilt-ridden, he tried to imagine if it had been for the best, but he could not see how Piett and Motti were any better off now than they were before. Had they not been affiliated with him, had they not been privy to the fact that the Sith viewed him as a threat, they would not be hiding from the Empire at this very moment and assisting rebels in a cause that did not seem likely to succeed. Piett would be back on the flagship defending Endor from attack, unbothered by the worry of being discovered and executed despite not doing one thing wrong to merit such a thing. Motti would likely be dead after mouthing off to the Sith in Jerjerrod's absence, but was his life more fulfilling out here where every one of his actions was under such scrutiny?
Jerjerrod had no worries about Piett's commitment to their friendship, but the irony of it all was that Piett should be the one who was furious at how his life had turned out because of Jerjerrod. Instead, Piett threw his full support behind Jerjerrod when he had no reason to and Motti was the one who was disgruntled, who had been breaking further and further apart from Jerjerrod.
Jerjerrod knew he and Motti were at a crossroads in their relationship, that Motti still harbored resentment toward him for how he had handled the shooting of the rebel during the ambush, how he had made the decision to blow the bridge, how he had chosen to mercy kill Needa, and how he had unwittingly used the Force against Motti and withheld the knowledge that Jerjerrod was Force-sensitive. Motti still did not trust him and Jerjerrod did not know what else he could do to earn that trust back when he didn't believe that he needed to earn it back in the first place. It was Motti's pride, fear, and bull-headedness that stood between Jerjerrod and the mending of their friendship. At this point, Motti was just being an uncompromising arse.
Jerjerrod had to take a step back and evaluate this relationship from an outsider's perspective and consider that no one would be able to understand why Jerjerrod continued to defend Motti, protect him, and put up with him. Yes, this was his oldest and closest friend–or at least, this had been. In one thing Motti was correct and that was that the years spent apart from each other had shaped them into two men with different values. So adamant was Jerjerrod on salvaging the friendship that the Empire had tried to destroy that he was blinded to the person Motti had already become and how this was a man far changed from the boy Jerjerrod had known. The blatant backtalk, the suppressed resentment and anger, the refusal to come to a peaceful agreement, the shadow in his eyes, all were marks of a past that Jerjerrod was still clinging to and that Motti had let go of.
They were not the boys they once were and if the Force was using this to teach them that it was time to part ways, Jerjerrod needed to realize it sooner rather than later.
/ /
To Motti's immense displeasure, Commander Skywalker roused them all the following morning for more training. They had decided to forgo the taking of the other outposts until they obtained more information on the odds they were to face since they had narrowly avoided a massacre at the first one. All traces of any struggle had been wiped from the outpost so that it now appeared abandoned, deserted by its troopers who were in actuality dead or captured and General Solo was relying on the fact that all soldiers left to fend for themselves after the bridge detonation would have more than enough reason to want to wash their hands of the Empire and that one outpost going off the grid would not raise any alarms.
This left plenty of time for Commander Skywalker to show the Imperials some more methods of survival if they were once again caught out in the wilderness since they had only fared well by luck rather than skill. Firemaking, telling direction, reading a footprint trail in the mud, and detecting edible plants and drinkable water were all skills they went over before Commander Skywalker had them gather for a demonstration in which he placed a helmet with a solid blast shield on his head and activated a Marksman-h training remote. The droid shot rapid-fire at him with non-lethal beams of energy in case he missed, but he managed to deflect them all without ever seeing one shot coming his way.
"I don't expect any of you to be able to do that, but I am going to make you all wear that helmet just to listen and feel for where the next shot is coming. The more aware of your surroundings you are, the better your reflexes will be. I'm not saying that Admiral Piett's reflexes weren't fast enough yesterday because if they weren't, he wouldn't be here, but that was too close of a call for my liking and before we send you out there into any other tense situations, I want you all better prepared. And I'm curious to see how you'll do. Commander, you first."
Jerjerrod was not surprised to be chosen first, but he wasn't pleased about it either since he was in no great hurry to have bruises from the droid beams all over his body due to how many times he missed. He approached Commander Skywalker and took the helmet with some trepidation.
"Am I supposed to roll around in the dirt and dive out of the way when I hear the shots coming?"
Commander Skywalker brought out a black bag that he kept his few belongings in as he explained, "I forged my own lightsaber with parts I found in my old master's abandoned home on Tattooine. I discovered another blade hidden there, salvaged from I think a fallen comrade. It wasn't doing anyone any good sitting there unused."
The Jedi held out a metal cylindrical grip to Jerjerrod who took it with uncertain hands as if unsure if he should be handling it. Jerjerrod gave a shallow swallow and his face fell as he regarded the handle.
"It doesn't have to have been forged by you to be yours," said Skywalker, reading the apprehension on Jerjerrod's face. "If you know how to use it, you should."
"I'm not certain that I do. Will it even work for me?"
"It will. Lightsabers don't have an allegiance to the individual who wields it. I know you'll recall the name of my old master, Obi-wan Kenobi. He used his master's lightsaber to defeat a Sith many years ago and only forged himself a new one when his master's was damaged, but it always served him well."
Feeling the grip hum almost as if it were alive, Jerjerrod could sense its power source eager to be ignited once again after remaining dormant for so long. He pressed a large black button near the bottom half of the grip, pointing the top end away from him and a striking, glowing blade purple in color sprang to life from it. It was impressively light in his hands almost to the point where he might forget he had a lethal weapon in his grip and accidentally slice off someone's limb. He deactivated it just to be safe since he didn't trust himself with it.
"Let it serve you, Commander. Now, put the helmet on and let's see how you do. Feel and don't think. Anticipate."
Jerjerrod lowered the helmet over his eyes and then put the blast shield down before switching the lightsaber back on and trying not to jump as he felt its energy in his hands. He heard the Jedi programming the droid to shoot at a much slower rate and then step back and he lifted the blade into defensive position as he listened for the droid's movements around him. Feeling like a complete idiot, he gave a small yelp of both startelement and pain as he felt a stun beam hit him in his leg from behind.
"Only consider the droid, Commander," came the Jedi's voice. "Let go of everything else."
Emptying his mind was always a monumental task for Jerjerrod because it was constantly full of concerns, ideas, answers, and solutions. He had a dozen things that were currently drifting around in his head and shifting importance, namely how ridiculous and absurd he felt at this moment as well as his ever-growing trepidation about his and Motti's relationship–but he had to let go of any external worries and he realized this too late as another beam hit him in the small of his back.
He could hear Commander Skywalker about to offer more advice, but held up a finger as an indication to remain quiet so he could concentrate with the information already given to him.
Feel, don't think. Anticipate. Let go of everything but the droid.
It sounded as if the droid was moving left, but a prickling in the hairs on the back of Jerjerrod's neck told him to whirl around to his right and in anticipation of not being shot again, he swung the lightsaber around to the right and felt the stun beam glance off of the blade. In the same beat, he sensed rather than heard the droid shift its aim for his face and lifted the blade up to block two shots.
Commander Skywalker gave him only the most humble of praises before putting him through the simulation another five times during which Jerjerrod caught two more beams to his chest and hip respectively. When he finally removed the helmet, his forehead was drenched in sweat and he felt some embarrassment handing it over to Piett who was up next and who fared far worse, but whose coordination was his downfall, not his ability to hear the droid. Piett managed to follow the droid's movement, but he did not possess the ability to wield the lightsaber in the position needed to block the attacks. Still, Commander Skywalker told him that his listening abilities were quite keen and that being a smaller target along with being able to hear attacks coming meant that he stood a greater chance of avoiding gunfire.
Last to the stage was Motti who looked downright agitated by the time he had to don the helmet. Instead of the lightsaber, he asked for his riot baton and to his credit, he looked far more comfortable with a weapon he had been training with rather than the lightsaber, even though the latter was a more versatile weapon. Jerjerrod feared glaring failure on Motti's part since he could feel some unexplainable heat radiating off of Motti even from twenty feet away and wondered why the Jedi did not call the training to a halt before it began.
Motti was clearly distracted, but where that had been Jerjerrod's downfall, it appeared the opposite for Motti in that it guided him. Wherever his mind was, it enabled him to move the baton into position to deflect three beams in a row from the droid but when the fourth nailed him in his rear end, Motti took that one missed shot as an insult on the largest scale possible and somehow turned himself on the offense where he was actively following the droid with the intent to slice it in half until finally Commander Skywalker had to intervene.
"I only have the one training droid, Admiral, so I think we'll leave it there for now."
Jerjerrod did not envy Motti having to go last to wear the helmet but now when Motti took it off, there were visible running droplets coming off the rim and on top of being flushed red with exertion, Motti also appeared as if he was about to be sick from the smell. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat and he looked like he had just gone out for a walk in the rain.
"That was a huge improvement from earlier this week for all of you," said the commander as he took the helmet from Motti with a slight grimace. "And unexpectedly triumphant for some of you." He looked Motti up and down as if trying to figure out what had changed in Motti since the last time they had been practicing in this clearing. "Everything alright with you, Admiral?"
"Do I not look alright?" Motti challenged, and Jerjerrod almost laughed at how very far from alright Motti looked right now.
"You actually look like you'd like to kill someone, so I can either give you an outlet by having you fight against me or you can go stick your head in the river and calm down."
"Are those my only two options?"
"If you'd like me to have Chewie throw you in the river, there's a third option."
"I'll go with him," Piett offered, but Motti rejected the assistance.
"I don't need an escort."
When Motti was out of earshot, Commander Skywalker appealed to Jerjerrod and Piett in an undertone. "Did he say anything last night about what happened yesterday?"
Jerjerrod immediately pushed the thought of Motti's willingness to commit murder deep down into his memory where the Jedi could not access it and shook his head, determinedly not looking at Piett but hoping the admiral did the same. "He seemed not himself, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. Did the princess say anything that leads you to believe that something happened yesterday?"
Commander Skywalker nodded grimly. "She said that they were taken captive and that while she thought Admiral Motti had turned her over to become a prisoner, he was trying to communicate with her through the Force to cause a distraction. He has no knowledge of how to do that and my sister doesn't know how to listen for anyone who isn't skilled with using the Force, but she heard his voice in her head. There is no way that should have happened. I could hear any of the three of you Imperial officers if you were trying to speak to me through thought and feeling alone because I know how to listen for someone; Leia doesn't know how and Admiral Motti's presence in the Force isn't strong enough for her to have heard him anyway."
"If she's not lying, but she's not skilled enough to have heard Conan, what does that mean for him?" asked Piett.
"It would have meant that Admiral Motti is Force-sensitive, but I haven't been able to sense anything within him, not like how I could tell immediately with the commander. I don't know what it means now, but I can see how much more attuned the admiral is today and how eager he seems to do damage. I can feel anger emitting from his body like he's a heat source, but I don't understand what he has to be angry about, especially when he and my sister are on amicable speaking terms. He's not being regarded as a pariah now, which should make him happy enough, but he just seems like he's looking for violence."
If Motti was indeed Force-sensitive, it would explain why Jerjerrod had thought that he had seen something not quite human behind his eyes and why Motti was able to block Jerjerrod out as well as how he improved so substantially without any additional training. But if the Jedi could not sense that the Force had a strong presence in Motti, what was the explanation for these drastic changes? And what was the cause of this sudden out-of-character aggression? Motti was known for having a temper, but a subdued one, one that came out in the form of sharp words, not harsh actions. Whatever this wrath was now, it was something else entirely.
When Motti returned several minutes later now with his upper body completely soaked through from dunking his head in the river, he gestured to himself and asked the Jedi, "Happy now?"
"The question is: are you happy?" returned Commander Skywalker.
"I'm never happy, but that's nothing new."
"Then let's see if we can deal with some of that pent-up aggression I'm sensing in you. I want you and the commander to duel with the weapons you used against the droid since you seem most comfortable with them."
"This is a live blade," said Jerjerrod, holding up the lightsaber.
"Yes, it is."
"This is a live–blade," Jerjerrod repeated as if uncertain that Skywalker had heard him the first time. "If Conan doesn't block or dodge in time, I could kill him."
"That's why I want you on the defense. The baton is non-lethal, but I want you to defend yourself like your life depended on it and I want Admiral Motti to come at you with the intention of using the baton like it's a lightsaber. Offense has a non-lethal weapon and defense has a lethal one."
Jerjerrod didn't see how reason could suddenly evade the Jedi in giving Motti full access to essentially beat the living hell out of Jerjerrod who was not supposed to do anything but defend himself in return. Commander Skywalker was inviting Motti to give in to whatever hostility was festering inside of him when he should be teaching Motti ways of calming that storm.
Tucking the baton into his elbow and grasping the handle in both hands in preparation for an overhead strike, Motti waited for Jerjerrod to lift the lightsaber into a defensive stance, but Jerjerrod was highly against letting the situation escalate.
"Commander, I am not comfortable using a live blade, even in practice," he protested, though his thoughts were calling for the Jedi to hear his discomfort with Motti. He knew the commander heard him and could feel his unease, but whatever the Jedi's goal was, it required Motti to be let loose from his leash to figure out and Jerjerrod had to be in the line of fire.
"Trust your instincts, Commander, they won't let you hurt him unless you mean to."
I'm not worried about hurting him; I'm terrified that he's going to intentionally hurt me, Jerjerrod projected.
"This is practice for actual combat," said Piett as a stern reminder to Motti that this was to be a friendly bout, not an invitation to do bodily damage. "I believe the goal is to disarm."
The way the corners of Motti's mouth curled upward in an almost bestial grin made Jerjerrod tighten his hold on the metal grip. What in the hell was this? Had Motti gone to bed and some animal woken up in his place? Was he starting to go mad like Needa had? Had he been bitten by something and not realized it and the venom was altering his personality? It was terrifying, not being able to sense what was going on inside the man across from him and in that moment, Jerjerrod had no trust in his friend whatsoever.
Motti took a giant stride forward and brought the baton overhead with the speed of a much more agile man. Jerjerrod cast up the lightsaber to block the blow, but the attack had the strength of someone twice Motti's size and Jerjerrod stumbled back a few steps. There was a brief pause during which Jerjerrod told Motti through a stern look to back down but as Motti's eyes narrowed and his gaze dropped into a challenge, Jerjerrod prepared for the onslaught that was about to take place.
Repetitive overhead strikes of the baton caused Jerjerrod to keep backing up whilst deflecting because the baton was light enough that Motti could swing forward and backhanded without tiring. When Motti could not land a blow, he changed tactics and stabbed out with the point of the baton. Jerjerrod sucked in his gut to prevent the baton from shocking him and knocked it aside, but Motti swiveled the baton around under his forearm and came at Jerjerrod from the other side. As the electrically-charged side of the baton pressed against Jerjerrod's ribs, it blasted him backward some ten feet where he landed hard enough to leave an imprint of his own body in the mud. Sitting up with his side aching and his rebel uniform singed from where it had come into contact with the baton, Jerjerrod glared at Motti with several choice words on the tip of his tongue.
Regardless of what the Jedi had said, Jerjerrod was moving into the offense now. If Motti was going to ignore the rules of mock combat and try to inflict bodily harm, Jerjerrod was going to make him earn it. The lightsaber responded to his touch and seemed to move where he wanted it to without any effort on his behalf as he put Motti on the defense and left no room for him to catch a breath between blows. He marveled at how easily he was able to move from one position to another as if his limbs were responding with muscle memory and had fought like this many times before.
But the moment he stopped to think about what he was doing and how, Motti elbowed him in the chest and tried the same attack he had before, only this time Jerjerrod brought the blade parallel to his body to catch the baton in a cross-hatch. Seeing that he could not continue the attack from here, Motti pivoted and brought the baton down in an overhead arc that Jerjerrod caught with his blade with enough force that his legs almost buckled.
"Push him back, Commander," the Jedi encouraged.
How? Jerjerrod was not physically stronger than Motti and did not have the means to twist the fight in his favor unless he had some outside assistance…and that outside assistance was the very thing that he promised Motti that he would not use against him again. Even after the way Motti had taken to the fight, Jerjerrod did not want to breach the boundary Motti had set for him.
"It'll come to your aid if you ask for it. Use it to your advantage."
"I can't," Jerjerrod panted as he dropped to one knee. I won't, was what he wanted to say, but he knew Motti would not appreciate having his intense fear of the Force put on display. Far from being appreciative of Jerjerrod's discretion, however, Motti leaned into his baton as he pushed Jerjerrod further down. If Jerjerrod didn't surrender or deactivate his own lightsaber, he or Motti were about to earn a grievous injury.
"Alright, that's enough," called Commander Skywalker. "You've beaten him, Admiral."
Motti either did not hear the Jedi or chose to ignore him, for he did not let his guard down and was now putting so much force into his side of the battle that Jerjerrod felt his knee sinking several inches into the soft earth. The electric blue of the baton illuminated Motti's already pale blue eyes and the hollowed look around them caused by the bruising of his broken nose gave the impression that his eyes were receding into his skull to give him a skeletal appearance. Jerjerrod saw a glint of something else set deep inside those irises though, perhaps yellow or red, but decidedly not human.
It was evident that Motti relished this power over him. For once more powerful, better, and stronger, Motti was not about to relinquish this feeling. He was blinded by something greater than his friendship with Jerjerrod and it was about to have grave consequences.
Jerjerrod's arm strength was on the verge of giving out. "Conan, stop…"
Motti certainly heard him, but did not listen. Abandoning reason, Motti wanted to win this fight in the most brutal way possible. He wanted to make Jerjerrod feel smaller, weaker, less-than. He wanted Jerjerrod to be at his mercy, to beg, to surrender, but however much Motti enjoyed being in a position of power, he was not a sadist about it. This opponent was not the Conan Motti that Jerjerrod recognized.
"If you don't back down, I won't be able to control what happens next," Jerjerrod warned. "Stop this now!"
"Conan, enough!" hollered Piett.
Give in to the hate. Jerjerrod heard the voice–familiar in its raspy, throaty quality–but had an out-of-body experience as if he was not himself. He felt a rush of rage, a thirst for victory and dominance. He wanted to hurt the man in front of him, only he realized that the man in front of him was him. Only, Motti did not recognize that Jerjerrod was in front of him as someone he cared about, someone who he had a past with; Motti saw only a threat that needed to be eliminated.
Throwing his full weight behind the baton, Motti made Jerjerrod take the weight and hold him up by the pressure of his lightsaber alone. The purple beam was dangerously close to cutting Jerjerrod across the shoulder blade and in a moment of desperation, he called upon the Force.
The energy was at his fingertips, ready to fly, and Jerjerrod allowed it to pass through his hand as he threw out his palm and sent Motti soaring backward. Motti's body toppled in a double back somersault but when he landed face-down, his head snapped up almost like some serpent as his eyes burned with a hatred that was entirely his own and completely directed at Jerjerrod, for Jerjerrod had crossed the line, even if it was an act of desperation. Jerjerrod had promised to not willingly use the Force against Motti, but Motti himself had driven Jerjerrod to break that promise, and so he had no right being angry about it.
Back on his feet with his baton at the ready to decapitate Jerjerrod with force alone, Motti moved toward him, but Commander Skywalker stepped between them with his lightsaber ignited. "Stand down, Admiral, or I will make you."
Motti looked like he was about to take the Jedi up on that challenge when Piett used his own baton to check Motti across the shoulder and as Motti went down, Piett kicked his weapon away. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Who am–? What do you mean?" came Motti's voice in a faraway, confused tone.
"Who are you?"
"I'm–this is ridiculous, I know who I am and so do you," said Motti, now with a twinge of annoyance that was all too familiar.
"I'm not sure I do. I don't recognize that creature you were a few moments ago. The man I know would never react like that, so if you're the man I know, tell me what the hell was that?"
Motti's eyes settled on Jerjerrod and to Jerjerrod's immense relief, he found them to be watery with regret.
"I-I don't know what that was," said Motti truthfully. "I don't know what happened."
"I do," said Commander Skywalker. "That was the dark side of the Force, as I suspected."
"As you suspected?" Jerjerrod repeated thunderously. "You mean you knew he might be influenced by the dark side and yet you let him fight me with the intent to kill me?" If he had wronged Commander Skywalker in some way to make him put Jerjerrod up as a target, he needed to know right now what he had done to invoke the wrath of a Jedi.
"No, he wanted to hurt you, not kill you, though that doesn't necessarily make it any better. I wanted to see what it was that activated his anger, but I didn't know it would be you," said Commander Skywalker somewhat apologetically. "I wasn't sure what to make of him until just now when I could feel the influence from the dark side trying to reach him. I haven't heard or seen the Emperor in person before, but I believe all three of you have, and I think you know whose voice you heard in your head, Admiral."
"I know," Motti admitted.
"Then tell me why you think that is? What happened between today and yesterday that made you accessible to the Emperor through the ways of the Force?"
Motti sat up slowly, keeping a wary eye on the baton in Piett's hands since Piett still looked capable of clouting him upside the head with it if Motti showed more signs of aggression.
"I killed a man yesterday. There were two troopers who recognized me and they had orders to turn me in, so I already had planned to kill them, but after I fired the first shot…I kept going. I couldn't stop; I had no control over what I was doing."
How familiar that sounded. And Motti had condemned Jerjerrod for doing the same thing, but now he could empathize with the moral conflict Jerjerrod had gone through when he felt his body reacting without his permission. At the time, Jerjerrod had known that it was the Force fueling his actions, but Motti did not know that he was being fed his actions from something other than his own mind.
"Vader himself said that Conan would have shown promise as a servant of the Sith if he had been born Force-sensitive, but that his anger was wasted on being normal," Jerjerrod recalled. "He said right there in front of both of us that Conan had nothing extraordinary about him."
"Either he was lying, or he just hadn't sensed it yet," Commander Skywalker mused. "If the Emperor didn't sense that you were gifted until just recently, Commander, it's no surprise that he hadn't yet sensed the admiral was too, though it's surprising that it happened within a few weeks of each other. I don't know what you did that caused the Emperor to be able to sense you, but from what I've observed here, the admiral began on a path of fear, which is the start of a journey to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger to hate, hate to suffering, and if the admiral was already fearful, it was only natural to turn to anger."
"I'm not," said Motti suddenly. "I'm not like either of you."
"Why is it such a curse to be like us?" asked Jerjerrod. "Why are you so against the Force?"
"Because of how it was used against me! Vader taunted me with it, humiliated me with it, and sent me spiraling down into what I've become because of it. I was so close to becoming moff, in the line of succession after Tarkin, but Vader made Tarkin and everyone else on that council lose respect for me and as my last moments as an admiral in the Imperial fleet, I was just the man who relayed your orders. I lost everything I knew and everything I was thanks to the fucking Force. I want nothing to do with it or anyone who lives by it."
Any hurt Jerjerrod felt had to be set aside, for he knew Motti was speaking with emotion rather than logic and that his words were not meant to cut deep. "That's a spiteful thing to say, considering that I've done what I have for you with assistance from the Force. If I'm stuck with these powers, I have to learn how to control them and that is the responsible choice I am making. By ignoring its existence within you, you're putting yourself and others at risk."
"We are not the same. How you use the Force and how I've accidentally used it are two different things and I don't give a damn if you, the Jedi, or Vader himself tells me that I am Force-sensitive; I will deny it with every breath. I'll not have it, do you hear me? I will not have it anywhere near me, inside or out."
"It doesn't matter how you used it intentionally or not," said Skywalker. "It chose to be seen in you and be felt and used by you, so you have to learn to live with that. You can't just ignore something so powerful."
"Watch me," Motti invited.
"The fact remains that if you continue burying it and rejecting it, eventually it will explode out of you and you won't be able to control it or the repercussions it will bring," reasoned Jerjerrod. "Now that you know that you have more within you than the average being, it's your responsibility to tame it because if you don't, I see you ending up like Vader or worse. If you hate him so much, you're doing your best to become another version of him. Correct me if I'm wrong, Commander, but didn't Vader turn to the dark side because of how he rejected the natural order of nature?"
"The Emperor promised him a certain power if he gave himself over to the dark side but instead, it consumed him," said Commander Skywalker. "He was afraid of loss and of death, which planted fear in his heart and caused him to make all the wrong choices. He tried to work against nature and he was punished for it, so now he suffers daily. As his son who understands what he went through and why and how, it's my responsibility to help him however I can. But as the only man who has seen the dark side from the Jedi's point of view, I'm the only one here who's qualified to try and protect others like me from being tempted. As I've said before, I'm no Jedi Master, but I know more about the Force than either of you, and I know the first steps to crossing over to the dark side and one of you is approaching that line alarmingly fast from having no notion of the Force to testing your limits with the dark side in less than twenty-four hours."
"Believe what you want, but I can't be swindled into joining any cause that supports the Force," Motti vowed. "I'm too far removed from what the Force stands for in any capacity, your side or the dark side. I'm not qualified to be a host and in any case, I hate it. It can't work through me if there's no mutual respect."
"That's not how that works, I'm afraid," said Skywalker with pity. "It chose you and it doesn't care how you feel about it; it's there to stay. You have to choose whether you'll work with it or be consumed by it, but for your sake, I hope you choose to work with it."
He left the affirmation there, but Jerjerrod knew he was not the only one who understood the double meaning behind the Jedi's words. If Motti willingly stepped aside and allowed the Force to guide him toward that path of destruction, deceit, and death, Luke Skywalker would have no choice but to kill him before he managed to become the tyrant that Vader was.