ADMIRAL PIETT
As the one individual who had no sense of the Force in this little training quartet of himself, Jerjerrod, Motti, and Skywalker, Piett could not help but feel left out, but only because he did not understand the struggle Jerjerrod (and to a reluctant extent, Motti) was going through. He did not know how arduous it was to navigate new powers all while controlling them and not allowing oneself to give in to any negative emotion such as frustration, anger, and hate. He himself was not a particularly hateful or angry individual, but he was also susceptible to the emotions of man, and he couldn't imagine living in such a way that every time he experienced any negativity, he had to guard himself.
Commander Skywalker had decided that the best way to not cause another outburst in Motti was to advise him on how to not become angry during the fight, for that was when mistakes were made. He believed that the way to win a fight was to consider the repercussions if one failed. Going into a fight seeking to win for the sake of winning was to win for the wrong reasons, and while Motti was having a difficult time with finding some other motivation, Piett was finding it nearly impossible since he wanted to win to show that he could and to save face. Meanwhile, Jerjerrod's inspiration came in the form of not showing weakness to Motti or triggering that festering hatred, which was more than enough reason to want to come out victorious, but fighting just for the sake of not losing was also not the greatest method either.
Not one to give up easily, Jerjerrod took everything the Jedi said to heart, and though his hand-to-hand combat training was still severely lacking next to his teacher, he was still a far cry better than Piett who had not yet managed to win a bout against any of the three, though not from lack of trying. He had come to the conclusion that he simply was not meant for this life–or any life, as depressing of a thought as that was. He could not hold his own against larger men, that had been proven several times over, but there was no one except the princess to test him against that was anywhere near his height and weight and he refused to even entertain that notion.
His inexperience and poor performance did not deter Skywalker from drilling him just as vigorously as his friends, though, and it was with the insistence that every minute spent in training was vital to his survival in the fight to come. Exactly what Skywalker meant by that was debatable, because Piett did not plan to offer himself for target practice at any more outposts, and he doubted he would make any difference on the battlefield if he and the other two were allowed to contribute to the final battle.
Only Piett's composure prevented him from throwing down his riot baton in his eighth failed match against Jerjerrod and exclaiming that he refused to participate any further. He was above such things as having a tantrum due to his own frustrations, but it was not possible to feel any lower than knowing that he was the absolute worst human fighter here including those soldiers on both sides who were too wounded to stand, for he knew they all could likely take him even without the use of their full strength.
There was no one to blame for Piett's lot in life to be the shortest and weakest except unlucky genetics because his father had been perhaps half an inch taller and his mother several inches shorter, both coming from a long line of short individuals, so he was doomed from the start. His height should not have made a difference if he had been standing at the bridge of a star destroyer where his rank was more than sufficient to make up for what he lacked in physical intimidation, but out here where it was a bare-knuckled fight and where strength was everything, his body was own downfall.
With as much grace as possible, he asked for Commander Skywalker to call it a day after he had been blasted backward by Motti's riot baton hard enough that he had definitely fractured something. Knowing that he had no hope of sprouting up an inch or two or gaining any amount of muscle overnight that might assist him, he silently cursed himself for not adding strength training to his physical regime to stay fit, as was required of all officers aboard the death squadron ships. He had no issue keeping trim to fit in his uniform unlike some officers whose waistline expanded from an excess of standing around idly. So determined was he to not turn out like Ozzel in any way, shape, or form, that he had cut back on his own rations and made a habit of walking the length of the Executor four times daily just to avoid the pouchy gut that many men had secretly poked fun at behind Ozzel's back. Now, it seemed he may have overdone it by leaving no fat on his bones at all and barely any muscle to compensate for the lack of padding, and though Jerjerrod and Motti could hardly be called overweight, they both had the height to make up for their slim physiques.
Grimy, sore, and in a sour mood, Piett cleaned up in the river beside Jerjerrod in a quick fashion and then made the long, slow ascent up dozens of steps into the lowest level platforms which overlooked the river and offered as a sentry point. Motti had gone off to complain to no one about how much he despised having the Force choose him and they could see him throwing rocks and other forest debris into the river down below.
"How long before General Solo goes out there and threatens to shove a rock up his back end unless he stops?" mused Piett.
"I give it two minutes at most," Jerjerrod guessed.
"I think it's a cruel and ironic cosmic joke for the Force to have chosen the one person most vehemently against it as a host. He's fighting it every step of the way and obviously wants nothing to do with it, so I don't see why Commander Skywalker continues to instruct him on how to use it as if Conan is ever going to try."
"Whether or not he deliberately tries, he is still capable, and if he doesn't learn to recognize when he's using it, he could hurt himself or someone else. What I find ironic is that he was always the most power-hungry of us all and would have done nearly anything to have the fear and respect that the Sith commands, but now that he potentially has that power that would make men fear him, he doesn't want it. If his family could see him now…"
"Perhaps that's just it; he wants to have earned respect for himself, not have it given to him as a consolation prize. Having something handed to you because of a fluke is almost worse than not having it at all."
Out of the corner of his eye, he could feel Jerjerrod's eyes on him, regarding him with contemplation as the commander attempted to sense his emotions and how they might have influenced his words.
"Are you upset about the way things turned out?" he asked Piett.
"Do I wish I also had some gift with the Force? Absolutely not. I have no desire to have to wrestle with my emotions on a daily basis and wonder if they're truly my emotions or some manipulation of the Force. What I do understand, though, is having something given to you simply because someone else failed, as you heard me tell Maxim. I am–I was only Fleet Admiral because Admiral Ozzel was an idiot and I was the only one there to take his place. I did not earn that rank, I was not born for that rank; I was the only choice that Vader could see in that moment. I'm here right now on this moon because of Ozzel's mistake."
"No, you're not," Jerjerrod disagreed. "You're here because you chose to be. You could have waited to board that shuttle the night we were shot down. You could have turned me in right then and there to Vader once you knew that I was planning on leaving; you could have tried to find your way back on your own; you could have told those outpost troopers that the rebels were planning on taking over. You were promoted because of another man's failures, but who you are and what you chose to do with your life is entirely by your making. No one made you make the decisions you did."
"But I might have made different ones if I had been in control of my own life."
"No one can predict that, though, can they? I've made decisions that I would rather have not had to make because they were forced on me. You do the best with what you are given and try to live with those choices. I know that many of mine lately have had me second guessing myself, but the one I regret most is the manner in which I killed that rebel who went after Conan. I murdered him and I don't even know his name."
Piett wanted to point out that it was better to not know the name because knowing only led one to think of the family that dead man left behind, what his life had amounted to that landed him in that exact spot in time, what difference he might have made if he had lived. Lykar Voss had not stopped visiting Piett when his mind was at its weakest, particularly after a grueling training session. Piett was convinced that this was his subconscious self trying to punish him in some way, but for what? He had never done anything so terrible before as taking a life and he had taken that of Lykar Voss in self defense, so why was he being punished for that?
A man like Veers might have chastised Piett for admitting what he was about to say, but Jerjerrod was non-judgmental and very well could be the last confidant Piett had left since Motti was ill equipped to handle emotional talk in any capacity.
"I know the name of the man I killed and I see him both while I'm awake and when I sleep," Piett told Jerjerrod. "I have remorse for killing him and I don't think I could do it again, no matter who it was. And if I cannot live with myself for having killed someone, that tells me I was never fit to be an officer in the Imperial fleet, so if I wasn't meant to live the only life I know, what does that make me?"
He had meant it as a rhetorical question, but Jerjerrod had an answer since it was part of his personality to always have a solution if possible. "I imagine that it just makes you human. Those people who enjoy killing are only human by the loosest definition."
"What would you call Conan, then?"
"A special case," said Jerjerrod delicately as the two of them watched General Solo come out to the river and begin to berate Motti. With each man equal parts prideful and stubborn, the ensuing argument was sure to be one of great interest, though Piett only caught every fifth word from up here.
"Not all men who serve the Empire are so consumed with the thought of killing and most of them don't relish it, but there are exceptions and I think Conan wants people to believe that he has no problem killing because it presents him as a more powerful individual; I don't think he actually enjoyed it. From what Commander Skywalker has told me, I think a Jedi is the opposite in that a Jedi knows how to kill and understands the consequences, but will avoid it if necessary."
"Is that the mantra you're going to adopt?" asked Piett somewhat jokingly.
"I'll never be a Jedi."
"You may not have a choice–"
"I won't," Jerjerrod vowed. "I'm an architect, Firmus. I was never supposed to be given the responsibilities that I have. I wasn't supposed to be in charge of lives and whether or not to end them. I was never supposed to kill anyone, but my design was made into a battle station that killed billions and as a result, I was promoted to a rank that puts me above thousands of men. Maxim gave me command of the bunker because of my rank when I knew nothing of battle. Commander Skywalker has me training in the ways of the Jedi for a battle I never want to see. The Sith wants me dead because of something I will never become. I only ever wanted to build, but this life has seen to it that all I will ever be known for is destruction. I would say that's as far displaced from my desire as it's possible to be."
"But you always knew you wanted to be an architect, even if you had never entered the Academy. You had an identity before, and you have an identity now. Conan and I allowed our uniform to define us, but the definition was just a number in the masses."
"You are capable of independent thought and are strong-willed, according to the Jedi, and that seems to be a rare thing in his experience as far as interactions with Imperial soldiers go."
"That only means that I'm aware of how little of an impact I've made with my existence. I'm aware of how this may come across as whinging, but I don't want pity; I do want you to see that you were able to make something of yourself because you were given the opportunity to do so. Without your uniform, you're still an architect. Without your powers of the Force, you're still a leader. Without his uniform, Conan is also an architect, but also a fighter and without the Force, he is simply a passionate fighter. Without my uniform, I don't know what I am. I feel like I have amounted to nothing."
It felt both empowering and emasculating admitting that at nearly forty years old, Piett had no idea who or what he was. Without a clear cause to fight for or serve, he was just a man who had things happen to him and allowed them to continue happening because he could do nothing to alter his future. He had thought that serving the Empire was a glorious undertaking and that he should strive to be a decorated man like Veers, but even his few accomplishments had brought him no glory and once he discovered how little he meant to the Empire and how its purpose was tyrannical, he abandoned it to serve himself. Aiding in the rebel cause was only done out of spite for the way he had been treated by the Empire despite his decades of service, but did he fight for the rebel cause because he believed in it, or because he had no other choice?
"You've never been nothing," said Jerjerrod fiercely in that tone that spoke to his leadership qualities. "You were my first friend and I hope you aren't my last, but your loyalty has always been the most unwavering. Your dedication and commitment to what you believe in has been the strongest of any man I know and I've always envied you for it. Don't ever sell yourself short just because you think your life has amounted to nothing. You're here right now, the same as me, and there's a reason for it, even if it isn't clear just yet. I've learned from the Jedi that we can't force understanding or the truth before we are ready for it, so don't allow yourself to be frustrated because you don't have an answer yet."
Down below, Motti and Solo were less than a foot away from each other, but their argument looked empty of rage and just pure annoyance. Motti made a vulgar gesture that made Piett wildly wonder where he had picked it up from, which sent Solo into another shouting spiel.
"I think that whatever answer I'm looking for, it's different than the one you and Conan are," said Piett in contemplation. "I think we all have to be given the option to go our own way and not be pressured to choose just because the others choose the same. You defected and I did the same because I gladly trust you, but Conan didn't and still doesn't. He still hasn't publicly claimed for the rebels, and maybe he won't. Maybe he won't choose sides at all, but that has to be his choice and we can't try to sway him one way or another."
"If I step back, I'm afraid of what he'll do," said Jerjerrod doubtfully. "He's become more rash with each passing day for months now and if I hadn't been there to speak for him, he wouldn't be alive to resent me for it."
"He's a grown man capable of making his own decisions, as I feel you sometimes forget. He got this far after graduation largely without your help and it's not as if his life has vastly improved having you in it these past few years. He's always been independent and will do what he's always done, which is to make his own choices, even if they're the wrong ones. By no means am I saying to give up on him, but you've seen how he reacts when you try to act the part of an older sibling. Even if your intentions are good and your heart is in the right place, he resents you for thinking he isn't capable of handling himself and he'll continue to make brash decisions just to spite you. You both would be better served letting things happen as they will and not interfering. And while I also feel inclined to protect him from his own stupidity sometimes, I can't be selfish, which is why it's so difficult letting go of Conan if I must because the two of you are all I can call my own. The clothes on my back are not mine, the weapons on my belt are not mine, but I have two friends left in this galaxy and to keep them, I have to acknowledge that I can't make their decisions for them."
"In that, we are in the same boat," said Jerjerrod dismally.
"I would tell him that you respect his decisions. If he knows that you won't push him one way or another, it might help to start to make amends before you lose him entirely. He thrives off of praise and recognition, and I think he wants that most from you."
"Why? He's never respected my seniority over him, so why would he want my approval?"
"When you've lived in your equal's shadow, ask me that question again."
Jerjerrod's posture became apologetic as he realized to whom Piett was referring, and then seeing that General Solo was about to call on Chewbacca to hurtle Motti into the river, he called down to Motti, "Conan, come up here, would you?"
Making a rude hand gesture at the general's back, Motti saw where Jerjerrod stood on the wooden scaffolding high above and returned, "That'll take me about fifteen minutes. Why don't you come down here?"
"Because eventually, you'll have to come up here and I don't need to go back down there for the rest of the night."
Defeated by Jerjerrod's logic but in no way pleased about it, Motti made a show of trudging back up to them and despite how equally sore and sluggish his body was, he opted to using one of the incredibly sturdy vines to swing from one platform onto theirs as the had seen numerous Ewoks do rather than taking the long way around. Piett had yet to try out this method, as he didn't trust his almost nonexistent upper body strength to hold him during those brief but treacherous few moments of being suspended high above the ground. He did have to admit that for those who enjoyed the rush of adrenaline, it could be considered as enjoyable, which was something he had not experienced since before his Academy days.
Looking rather pleased with himself, Motti approached them as if to ask what was so important that it couldn't wait when they heard the raucous sound of someone bellowing in argument and the deep tenor could only belong to one person. They spared not one second to exchange startled looks at each other and then raced across four bridges, up seven separate sets of staircases, and around nine winding platforms to reach the hut where they knew the majority of the rebels gathered for discussions and other important points of interest.
Inside, they found Commander Skywalker, General Solo, and Chewbacca all with their arms crossed and off to the side as Princess Leia and Veers stood at odds in the center of the room. Veers had finally been fitted with an artificial leg to replace the one he had now lost twice and so he was on his feet between two guards as he pointed the finger of accusation at the princess who was completely dwarfed by Veers at his full height, but whose stormy expression helped her hold her own. Veers had not been detained since apparently everyone believed he was in such rough shape that he wouldn't be much of a threat, but if they had even an inkling of an idea who Veers was, they would have five guards on him and at least two of them chained to Veers to hold him back in case he decided to have a go at the princess.
"You'll get no satisfaction from weaseling any information out of me, I can assure you," Veers was telling Princess Leia and looking disgusted at whatever she had just suggested. "I've not sunken so low that I'd willingly tell you anything."
"Despite everything we've done for you and the mercy we've shown you, you have no sense of gratitude whatsoever? If you're unwilling to provide us with information that we need, you understand that it will be held against you," said the princess in exasperation.
"I can't be bought with empty promises and I can't be threatened by weightless words. You people consider yourselves too superior to getting the information that you need by any means necessary, and that is why you can't win this war. The Empire has no qualms about using extreme tactics to get the information we need, but because I know that you have some moral high ground that won't allow you to do the same thing to me, you have nothing to threaten me with. My greatest fear as your captive is to die of boredom."
"If this piece of space manure wants to be tortured, I'm sure we can think of something," suggested General Solo.
"I'm certain that's not what he meant at all," said Jerjerrod, coming around to the princess's side and as Veers took in the sight of him, Piett, and Motti dressed in rebel garb, his face flushed a delicate shade of red in fury.
"How dare you stand there and look at me with no shame and nothing to say for yourselves? You sold yourselves for what, the promise of a hot meal and a blanket because you couldn't last another day without the closest thing to the comforts of your spaceships that you could get? Traitorous maggots, the lot of you."
He was too proper a man to spit at them, but Piett knew he would have liked to.
"Don't act surprised," said Jerjerrod. "You already severed ties with us, so this shouldn't come as a shock to see us out of Imperial uniform when you know good and well that we shed that image and that loyalty."
"All too easily," Veers returned. "There was no hesitation on your part, was there? No need to threaten you or offer you anything in return. You all but threw yourselves at the chance to sell yourselves to the very cause you swore to destroy."
"Actually, the few days spent in hell contemplating and piecing together how the Empire sold us out before we were rescued was what did it for me," said Motti plainly. "You would think that being blown into a ravine and losing the same leg twice might have made you feel somewhat similar, but you've always been the one to have your nose so loyally up the Empire's ass that you couldn't see the light of reason shining down on you."
It was actually quite a marvel to see a man like Veers who so rarely, if ever, showed any true expression suddenly allow himself to show even a fraction of it and how it was as clear as day to those who knew him and could tell how much this situation infuriated him. Unlike Motti though, Veers showed no signs of being influenced by the Force in his anger; it was all his own, and to have Motti speak to him in such a disrespectful way, he took a menacing step forward.
"Compose yourself, General," the princess warned.
"If you would only compromise with them, you might find something to salvage here, Maxim," said Jerjerrod pleadingly. "Think of what you still have outside of your rank. Think of your wife and son."
"Don't you dare suggest that," Veers seethed.
Piett wasn't sure if Veers was upset at being reminded of his family when by now that had to have been told of his death and likely didn't care, or if he was upset at being told that he should consider them as if they were a reason to keep his temper and betray the Empire. He hadn't considered until now that Veers's wife would likely have already moved on in eagerness to live her life unattached to a man who was more married to his duty than to his her. Veers's son would be told that the father who could never be bothered to write home to him had died in battle and that would be the end of it. With no family, friends who had defected, and no assurance that he even was still in good standing with the Empire, Veers truly had nothing, and a man with nothing had nothing to lose and was the most dangerous sort.
Veers's eyes raked over Jerjerrod and Piett as he continued to the princess, "I can understand these two since they never had much resolve in the first place, but if you mean to tell me that he," Veers singled out Motti, "has cooperated enough with you that he doesn't need to be detained and guarded at all times, I'm inclined to call you a liar. What did you do to him to make him even slightly agreeable to your cause?"
"The admiral," said the princess, glancing at Motti, though not with the disdain she used to, "has been making efforts to earn his place. He's earned the right to stand here, even if he's not completely dedicated himself to aiding us."
Veers scoffed. "He's only completely committed to something when he has something to gain. If you think that he's given up on the comfortable and profitable life he had before you found him, you're delusional, as are you," Veers addressed Jerjerrod and Piett, "for letting him gamble with that life."
"I trust him to do what he needs to do for himself, just as I will and just as you inevitably will," said Jerjerrod and Piett immediately turned his gaze upon Motti who blanched in obvious but pleasant surprise that Jerjerrod had spoken for Motti's capabilities rather than against his faults.
"I've asked as many soldiers as I can about all four of you," the princess continued, "and they can all agree that you are the most decorated and dedicated officer while the admiral has been ambitious and not at all sympathetic to our plight, but he's the one who's made the most changes here. If he's capable of coming to his senses, I believe even the most devout man like you can too."
"I'm fully aware of myself and I know that the cause you fight for would induce mass chaos across the galaxy and more innocent lives would be destroyed in the disorder that would result in no longer having Empirical structure."
What was such a sad thing to comprehend was that Veers truly believed that the Empire was not only the foundation on which the galaxy thrived but also the glue that held it together. But he had seen, he had experienced, and he still could not believe that the Sith held no regard for his safety or his life. He knew that Vader only saw his supposed death as a setback and that losing Veers meant delaying the Sith's agenda. Veers was still replaceable, his death an inconvenience at best. He had been given the orders to sacrifice Motti, had gone against orders of his own free will, had put the pieces together that Vader was willing to sacrifice the lives of his own high-ranking officers, and yet Veers's hatred for the rebels ran deeper than the Sith's disregard for his own life.
Princess Leia shot her logic right back at Veers. "By having the Empire in control, billions are suffering from oppression and worse. You haven't lived on the other side as we have. You haven't seen what those in poverty and those out of the Empire's favor have to deal with. You've only known this military life and the perks of being one of the best generals in service, but if you could see the trials of those less fortunate than you, you would understand."
"You'll not stand there and tell me that I've never seen trials, woman," said Veers in a barely controlled display of anger. Piett had never seen him this furious before; he had only ever seen Motti angry enough to land a blow and Veers had a much better grasp on reality than Motti could ever hope to have, so if Veers was at the point now where he wanted to strike out, there would be no containing his rage. "The privilege you've had as a princess born to distinguished parents and raised as royalty will never compare to that of common folk. You stand there preaching of the injustice done to your people when your people were the sort who pretend to sympathize with those who were truly suffering. My people were held hostage and slaughtered in the name of justice for a cause they had no part in. They were innocent bystanders and they had no choice but to burn and die with those radicals who opposed the rise of the Empire. My family were victims of the cause you fight for."
"Maxim, these are not the same people, as I've told you time and again–" Jerjerrod tried to say, but Veers rounded on him as if he had a personal vendetta against him.
"And you, knowing where I stand, knowing how what was done to my family has shaped my entire life, you throw your lot in with people like this? You're a disgrace. When the Empire destroys this rabble once and for all, you'll burn in hell where you belong with the rest of them, you dishonorable, backstabbing piece of shit."
Piett found himself struck dumb by Veers's use of profanity. He had come to expect such outbursts from Motti and the occasional curse under the breath from Jerjerrod, but Veers's professionalism was incorruptible and with one word, he had shattered that image.
"That is enough," said the princess. "General, you have every right to feel the way you do about what was done in the past, but you will not change our mind and we will not change yours, so if you have nothing better to contribute to the discussion, I think we're done here."
It happened so quickly that Piett did not see it coming. He knew Veers wanted to lash out, but he had mistaken the target. He saw Jerjerrod brace himself in preparation for having to fight off the larger man with the limited skills that Skywalker had taught him, but Veers snatched a blade off of one of his rebel guards, shoved the man into the other guard to cause a distraction, and made straight for the princess.
"Maxim, don't!" Piett cried, moving into Veers's path. He might as well have laid down on the ground and had Veers step over him for all the good it did, though, because Veers almost didn't even stop but instead grabbed Piett by the front of his tunic, lifted him with almost no effort, and flung him aside where Piett crashed into a rack of wooden Ewok spears. It was as if Piett had never even been there to begin with, that he was not enough to even slow Veers up for two seconds. He was never enough to make a difference when it mattered.
Veers was three feet from the princess when he was intercepted, but not by anyone Piett expected.
It was Motti who stepped between the woman who hated him and the man he hero-worshipped and caught Veers's wrist in one hand whilst holding him back with his other hand on Veers's collar. General Solo and the Wookie easily were tall and strong enough to intercept Veers and Skywalker might have been able to call on the Force if he had expected the reaction, but they also had been too far away, unarmed, and unprepared. If Veers intended to stab the princess, they would not have gotten there in time.
Princess Leia had thrown herself backward and now lay in Motti's shadow, bewildered at his actions to protect her.
Veers also appeared caught off guard by Motti's intervention as he struggled to throw the admiral off. "You owe them nothing."
"Not like this," said Motti. "If you get any closer to her than you are now, they'll gun you down like an animal. I'm not watching that. You don't act like this. You, of all people, do not lose control. Get a hold of yourself and walk away now."
It was a bit rich for Motti, of all people, to be telling Veers to get a hold of himself after he had spent the past few days deliberately not doing that despite the Jedi's efforts to control his anger, but Veers didn't know that. The fact that Motti still held respect for Veers to the point that he would not allow Veers to sully his reputation as this steadfast, calculated, incorruptible god of a man, it was both honorable and disheartening that Motti's role model was a man who no longer wanted an affiliation with him.
A vein was throbbing in Veers's forehead with the effort to push past Motti, but Motti was eerily calm and looked to be putting forth no effort at all. This was a completely different man than Piett had seen these past few days in how well he managed to compose himself when everything about the situation suggested that he was going to let his emotions gain the upper hand.
"It won't bring you the satisfaction you're looking for. It won't do a damn thing. Drop the knife and walk away while you still have the chance."
Veers withdrew the knife with such ferocity that it sliced Motti across the forearm and Motti clutched at the thin red line that instantly began to leak blood.
Piett saw that warning in his eyes that he was about to cross the threshold and turn his anger on Veers and despite knowing that he was not physically strong enough to hold either man back, he found himself stepping between them with a hand extended to Motti to calm him. Damn his good intentions, for even he could not bring himself to leave Veers to face Motti's wrath alone.
He didn't know how this worked with those with hyper-sensitivity to the Force, but he willed Motti to hear him and feel the stillness in him.
Be calm, he thought forcefully, though he doubted Motti could actually hear him since Jerjerrod was the one who was attuned to emotions and thoughts.
"Steady, Conan."
Motti blinked rapidly as if trying to rid his eyes of a foreign object and Piett could see him struggling to understand why he now could not be in complete control of his own mind. His body posture went from rigid to relaxed, but his expression was still hardened.
Then the princess moved around him and to the shock of all, she laid a hand on his forearm and pushed him behind her and commanded without looking at him, "Stand down, Admiral, I'll handle this."
Her words, her touch should have set him off since she was the one who had triggered his anger in the first place, but any indication that he wanted to battle Veers went right out of him. Princess Leia approached Piett, but spoke past him to Veers and there was now sympathy where there had been icy irritation before.
"General, I understand your hatred. Believe me, I am the only one here who can understand because I watched my people be murdered as my home planet was destroyed in front of me while I could do nothing. I've been holding onto this hatred for years and I wanted blood for it, but the only person who I could possibly blame is the one who just stopped you from trying to kill me. The admiral was right next to me watching when Alderaan exploded and when we found him out in the wilderness and I recognized him, I wanted to see him suffer for his part in the murder of my people, but my hatred won't bring my people back and killing or torturing the man who had some small part to play won't bring me any satisfaction. The hatred you feel won't give you any satisfaction and you'll never know peace until you learn to let go of it. I pity you if you can't do that, but I also understand why you can't, if you can't."
Four rebels moved in to disarm Veers and place him in binders, but Veers did not even put up a fight. His face was back to one of alert but calm indifference.
"You and the other Imperial soldiers both wounded and whole will be moved tomorrow to a temporary campsite and then airlifted and relocated to a remote part of the moon for your own safety," said the princess, and when Veers had nothing to say in return, he was led away.
In the silence that filled the air after the general had gone, Princess Leia turned to Motti. They stared at one another far too long for comfort, but Piett saw no animosity there, only confusion.
"That was…unexpected," said the princess at last.
"I'm as surprised as you are," said Motti. "I wasn't even aware that I was moving in front of him until I saw his knife coming at me."
Piett could tell that it was half a lie, but he wasn't sure if the princess picked up on it. He believed that Motti's instinct made him move forward to stop Veers, but that he didn't consider why he was moving forward. Motti was likely trying to disguise the fact that he was attempting to do the honorable thing in protecting the princess and was trying to play it off as nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction because he would not admit that the Force had anything to do with his actions.
"Then keep up the surprises, Admiral," the princess invited. "But try not to maim yourself every time."
"I wasn't the one who broke my nose last time," Motti reminded her.
"No, I take full credit for that. Can we get some bandages for the admiral's arm?"
While the field medic saw to Motti's cut, Jerjerrod came to Piett's side and said in an undertone, "What was that you said about leaving things alone?"
"You would have done the same if you hadn't been caught off guard," Piett shot back. "You thought Maxim was going for you just like everyone else did and you didn't expect Conan to stop him. I only got between them because I was already close enough after Maxim had barreled through me as I wasn't even there."
Jerjerrod caught his inference and tried to reassure him by saying, "But your words reached Conan enough to stop the storm before it could gather. Having to prevent Conan from going after Maxim is a challenge I did not want to see or partake in, and you're responsible for avoiding that."
Not soon enough to prevent bloodshed, though, thought Piett darkly, though he did not say this aloud to Jerjerrod when he appreciated that his friend was trying to be supportive of him, especially after their earlier exchange on the subject.
"I would love to be part of this conversation you are having," Motti interjected as the medic finished up with him.
"You can't be; it's about you," said Jerjerrod transparently as he led the way out of the hut. They hadn't gone five feet when Commander Skywalker intercepted them and offered out his hand to Motti who stared at it, nonplussed.
"Thank you for your quick actions in there."
"If I had let him get to her, you all would have blamed me for not doing anything," said Motti.
"Just accept the gratitude, please," said Piett in anticipation of the headache that would come from listening to Motti argue over the most trivial thing and for once, Motti held his tongue and shook the Jedi's hand, though he did not look pleased about it.
Commander Skywalker continued, "I think you all handled that as well as you could, given the circumstances and how your friend–"
"He's not," said Motti with some savagery.
"Well, obviously you still feel like he is, otherwise you'd have let him have a go at my sister, but you were trying to prevent him from doing something irredeemable. No one made you do that, Admiral, and even after he cut you, you were still trying to keep a level head, though some of that credit has to go to my sister."
"Credit for what?" Motti demanded. "She was the one who set him off in the first place."
"Couldn't you feel it?" asked the Jedi. "She was trying to calm you. She doesn't know that you're Force-sensitive, but she was using her own influence in the Force to help you because she could feel that pressure warning building inside you."
"I didn't feel anything," Motti insisted.
"Now, you can do better than that," chided Commander Skywalker. "You've told me a lot of lies since meeting me, but that one was lazy. I could see it in your face the moment you felt her trying to reach you. You can't tell me that that isn't an improvement."
"Even I could see her effect on you," Piett told Motti. "Even if you won't admit that you felt anything, the fact remains that she recognized that you were in distress and was trying to calm you and the situation. If she hadn't, it's not a stretch to say that we would be mopping up blood in there rather than just wrapping your arm."
"But that didn't happen because I wasn't about to take out my blaster and shoot him in the head," Motti protested.
"It didn't happen because Leia helped," said Commander Skywalker again. "Even now, you're still seething that he insulted you and attacked you, even if you weren't the initial target of the latter. You wanted to hurt him, but you never got close enough because with Admiral Piett's interference and my sister's intervention, you had time to get a hold of yourself. But if something triggers your anger, you can't help yourself; you want to immediately attack, and the Force senses your willingness to do such actions. It happened to the commander, but it's stronger in you."
"Not more of this codswallop, I swear…" Motti moaned, running his hands over his face in fatigue.
"The Force presents itself differently to every individual who feels it. Commander Jerjerrod is attuned to the emotions of others like I am. Admiral Motti channels his emotions into his actions and uses the Force to aid them like Vader does. Both of you have the potential to do both on a more powerful level, but you also may never become more powerful than you are. You both are able to sense danger before it happens. What one of you may discover you excel in may not be the same for the other, so never judge your progress on what the other person has achieved."
"I'll try not to," said Motti without humor.
"Something I want both of you to work on is releasing your thoughts for the day before you sleep. Let go of every emotion you feel and invite the emptiness to fill your head. Now that you both are learning how to co-exist with the Force, your presence in the Force is stronger and the Emperor and Vader may be able to find you and find out you're still alive."
"If they are able to sense you, Commander, they likely have sensed Tiaan and Conan already," said Piett in an effort to remind the Jedi that he was still standing there.
"I would be able to feel if they did know," said Commander Skywalker confidently. "And even if the Sith do find out that you survived the shuttle crash, they can't pinpoint you on this moon. They would only know that you survived and had been rescued, but that you'd be unreachable unless they had a direct signal to your location."
"In a worst-case scenario, what would the protocol be if they did pinpoint our exact location?" asked Motti in a would-be calm voice.
"The goal is to bring the Sith to us, not the other way around. I have a plan to turn Vader against the Emperor, but I need his attention on me, not you. If it comes down to it, I need you to not be anywhere near Vader if I'm to succeed because of how I've been told that you aggravate him, Admiral. And ultimately, if things don't happen according to plan, being taken alive for the two of you is not an option because you aren't strong enough to hold up against the ways that the Emperor will torture you either to make you tell them about us or to turn you to the dark side. If you're captured, there is nothing I will be able to do to help you. I'm giving you all the tools I can to help you now, but you have to decide to utilize them."
As selfish as it was, Piett could not help but feel an enormous sense of relief that he wasn't being hunted by the Sith, but that sense was quickly quashed when he realized the gravity of the Jedi's words. Jerjerrod and Motti would be wanted men if the Sith knew they had survived and if they happened to be captured, they would face a short life of agony before death or a long life of suffering as pupils of the Sith. Commander Skywalker had all but told them that they were to opt out if they fell into enemy hands but neither of them seemed to be the suicide type, as their sense of self-preservation was too strong. Piett imagined the both of them made to last for days on end until their bodies gave out from the pain or their minds caved in and they were broken past the point of madness. Or they would suffer in silence as servants to the very cause they had tried to escape and all recollection of who they were and who they cared for would be lost.
His visions of the horrors that awaited his friends must have shown a prelude of terror on his face, for the Jedi placed a comforting hand on his shoulder in a display of concern that Piett was unaccustomed to.
"That's a worst case scenario, Admiral. I'm going to do everything I can to prevent it from happening, but I need trust from all three of you and your word that if I sense the danger, you'll follow my command without question because I'm making decisions to keep all of us safe."
The suggestion was directed more toward Motti than Piett and Jerjerrod, but it was still their lifeline if they hoped to evade capture when the time came to confront the Sith. Here, Piett knew he was truly useless, for he had heard of the Sith's abilities in being able to deflect blaster fire and shoot electrical currents from their hands on top of what he had already witnessed in use of the Force to strangle someone and their speed and deadly accuracy with a lightsaber. Commander Skywalker might just be a match for one Sith, but surely not two, and if neither Jerjerrod nor Motti were anywhere close to being able to hold their own against a master of the Force, what hope did Piett have? How was he expected to compete on the battlefield when he had a blaster in hand and nothing more?
He imagined the sight of his own corpse struck down and trampled underfoot to be discovered by the winning side in the days following the battle. He would last perhaps twenty seconds, maybe a few more if his lithe frame was enough to help him avoid blaster fire in the initial volley. One shot, one misjudged step, one moment of the Sith locking onto him and crushing his windpipe from afar, and it would be as if he had never existed. There was no tide-turning tactic that he brought to the table and his only plan going into battle was to not die, even if he didn't necessarily win.
The manner in which the Jedi was watching him as if he had already seen Piett's fate was not a good omen and he did not need grand powers of deduction to figure out that according to Commander Skywalker, Piett was going to die first.