COMMANDER JERJERROD
Waking meant that he had to wonder how and when he had gone unconscious and when he realized that he could not sit up due to restraints across his abdomen and on his wrists and ankles, he panicked when he thought that he had been captured by the Imperial troops at some point that his memory did not recall. His mind went reeling as he tried to recall anything from before this moment: running, the pain of being shot, running again, screaming for Motti as he led stormtroopers away, shivering and bleeding out as the princess buried him in leaves to go for help…
His eyelids peeled back and a white film had coated his eyes, making it difficult to see anything at all and sending him into even more of a panic when he feared he might be blind. Blinking rapidly, he saw a room of white and pale gray come into view, but that did not rule out the possibility of it being an Imperial holding cell or medical wing. Binders held him in place, but he was still in his rebel attire apart from being stripped bare from the waist up to get to his blaster wound which was now a mostly closed hole in his side that looked several weeks old, but he could not have been unconscious for that long, could he?
He forced himself to take a deep, sturdy breath through his nose and feel for his surroundings to sense just how much danger he was in. His eyes immediately fell upon a droid to his right, domed and blue and white in coloring. He recognized this droid, though he had never taken the time to ask its number the few times he had seen it around the Ewok encampment. The sight of it gave him hope, however, that he was safe, though it did nothing for his resentment at being secured down.
The droid gave a series of enthusiastic beeps and a few moments later, Princess Leia appeared at the doorway looking relieved that he was awake, though this was not an expression he expected to see from her regarding him. They had survived together, but she still did not like him.
"You came back for me," he said conversationally.
"I told you I would," she responded as she sank into a rotating chair on the other side of his bed. "I chanced broadcasting my location and was lucky to have one of the medical ships pick me up, then we went back for you."
"And how long ago was that?"
"A few days ago. You lost a lot of blood, but there were a lot more injured soldiers than we thought, so you couldn't be put in the bacta tank for a full session and had to do just half hour increments at a time. And it took some time to get your blood type."
"So would you mind explaining why I'm strapped down like I'm a danger to someone?"
"You were a danger to yourself. You reopened your wound three times from thrashing around."
"And the status of your people?"
Leia's practiced face fell for a fraction of a second, but she recovered and said, "We lost some, but our plans haven't changed. Luke, Han, and Chewie made it out. We haven't heard word from the other side for negotiations, but from what we can gather, the admirals are still alive."
As that was to be Jerjerrod's next question, he nodded and then sank back onto his bed with the intention of opening his mind to search for Motti and Piett's presence, but Leia interrupted him with a hand on his wrist. He flinched at her familiarity, as he was not used to being shown kindness in such a way and certainly not from a woman and on top of that, most definitely not from a woman who had openly expressed her disdain for him and all he stood for, regardless of how they had recently fought alongside one another and now served the save purpose.
"Luke said not to look for them."
Jerjerrod would have asked why, had he not already known the reason. His connection with his friends was unsafe for him because it could give the Sith intellect into where he and the rebels were hiding. He was sorely tempted to say to hell with it all and extend his senses in every direction anyway just as a confirmation to himself that his friends were still alive, but Leia's grip on his wrist was alarmingly strong and this time he could feel her attempting to influence him.
"You can stop that; I'm well aware of the danger it poses for everyone if I go looking where I shouldn't," he told her somewhat curtly.
"Stop what?" she asked innocently.
"You can't tell me that you aren't aware of what you're trying to do to me right now and what you did right after Conan led the troopers in the other direction."
"You're the one who can sense emotions better than the rest of us, so you tell me if you think I'm lying," she countered.
"Are you?"
"No."
Still not completely sold, Jerjerrod briefly explained, "You're trying to force a sense of calm over me and convince me to not use the Force to look for Conan and Firmus. You did the same thing before, using your powers to try and manipulate my mind into leaving Conan behind. And I believe you did the same thing on the night the general made an attempt on you and Conan interfered. You willed Conan to stand down when none of us could fully reach him and he did. That is a power of a Force-sensitive being, if I'm not mistaken. Your brother has told you that, surely?"
Leia gave an unconcerned shrug of one shoulder. "I chalked it up to my authoritative presence. I wanted to have control over the situation in all three instances, but I wasn't aware that I was actually able to do anything. I thought you all were just deciding to listen to me and trust me."
"You were attempting to employ what I believe your brother called a Jedi mind trick. Unfortunately, it only works on the weak-minded, which I'm sad to say I am not."
"I know what a Jedi mind trick is," said Leia waspishly. "What I did wasn't that; I was trying to make you see reason."
"Call it what you want, but you were using the Force whether or not you were aware of it, did you know that?"
"A few weeks training with my brother and you're suddenly an expert on who uses the Force and when? Yes, I'm aware of the fact that I'm the spawn of Vader and that in being his offspring, I've inherited some of the abilities that Force users have. Luke's taught me to try to be more mindful of them, but he hasn't taught me as much as he taught you and the admiral."
"That hardly seems fair."
"It's strategic and necessary. The more I make my presence aware in the Force, the easier it will be for Vader to sense me. Luke took a gamble with the admiral, but the Sith already knew you were Force-sensitive, so there was no new danger there. But Vader doesn't know I exist and if he did, he and the Emperor would try to exploit me exactly how they're exploiting Admiral Motti and how they hope to exploit you. The four of us–Luke, Admiral Motti, you, and me–we can't be tempted to turn to the dark side."
"Well, I don't think Conan has the option to say no, does he?"
Jerjerrod had not considered that grim prospect until now that on top of the harsh treatment Motti would receive at the hands of the Sith, they would push him as far as he could be pushed to accept the ways of the dark side of the Force. As much as Vader likely was highly against the idea, the Emperor would be curious to see what sort of monster he could mutate Motti into since even Vader had admired the hatred he had claimed to sense within Motti. And as much of a fight Motti would put up, the Force would not cooperate with him if he chose not to embrace its existence within him. If the Sith wanted to extract it, they would, and he would have no say in the matter.
"Don't," said Leia again, as Jerjerrod had gone quiet in contemplation of what was happening to Motti at this very moment. "You're endangering both of them, yourself, and all of us if you try to look. You can't help them this time. I know it goes against everything you are, but you have to let them go."
"That is so monumentally difficult for me to do, you realize that?"
"I know," said the princess empathetically and he chastised himself for even asking her because of course she realized how difficult this was for him. More than most, she realized. "I thought it was you just being a strong-willed leader of your men when you defended Admiral Motti, but the events that took place after the general gave up our position made me realize how much the three of you actually care about each other. I didn't think Imperials were capable of feeling, but you don't do the things you did just because you're trying to protect your men. They're family, and that's not a question. I saw it in the way you reacted when you thought you'd lost them and I can feel it. I'm not completely surprised to find that out about you and Admiral Piett, but Admiral Motti is another matter."
"He lost his way for a time," said Jerjerrod in Motti's defense. "Being discarded by the Empire was the best thing that could have happened to him to reevaluate his life's direction and rediscover his humanity, but since it led here to him being captured and tortured, I'm not certain if it was worth it."
"I guess it depends on your point of view. I've been taught that you have to consider things from a certain point of view to fully understand why they happen the way they do," said Commander Skywalker from the doorway. "I believe that coming to terms with who you were always meant to be is a far greater thing than never finding out what you might have been, even if you have to go through pain to reach that potential."
"You believe that it's better that I've suffered as I have because it led me to this outcome, being strapped down to a cot because I might hurt myself due to my connection with the Force?" Jerjerrod questioned sarcastically.
"From a certain point of view," said the Jedi again. "Do you feel better now that you've answered for your part in constructing the Death Star and all the lives it claimed by helping to bring it down? Do you feel that you're serving a better purpose than you would have been if you had stayed a servant of the Empire?"
"I suppose I can't answer that until I've seen the results of my efforts, Commander. And I can't see anything tied down here, so if it's alright with you, I'd like to be let loose now."
Commander Skywalker nodded to his sister and both of them set about to undoing his binders, but once they had finished and he was free to move about, he was suddenly reluctant to do so.
"A few days, you said I've been laying here?" he asked Leia.
"It'll feel like longer, but once you get moving, it'll be easier," she said optimistically.
Jerjerrod swung his legs off of the bed and scooted himself to the edge, feeling a dull pain in his side that grew to a resonating ache the more he moved about. Planting his boots on the pristine floor, he let his feet take his weight as he slowly stood up. Leia had her hands halfway up to catch him if he should need her and he sensed the commander behind him poised to do the same.
"I have it," he assured them, and proved it by walking to the compartment across the room where his weapons and utility belt had been stored. A fresh set of clothes had been set out for him as well and he didn't even have to ask as the brother and sister turned away to allow him privacy to change into his rebel uniform. When he had finished, he snapped the buckle on his belt together to let them know it was safe to look.
"What do you plan to do now?" he asked the Jedi.
"Now, we stay on alert. Han and Chewie are back at the Ewok camp, but Leia and I have been waiting here until you were conscious and ready to come back, so now that you are, we'll continue where we left off in planning to disable the outposts and move in on overtaking the bunker and shield generator."
It was an odd thing, hearing that the siblings had put their contribution to the war effort on hold just to stay by his side when they owed him no such loyalty. Only a few short weeks ago, he would have been expected to kill them both on sight and they would have done the same, yet now he stood in their uniform, wielding a Jedi's weapon, making plans to cripple the Empire after escaping death with both of them and prioritizing each others' safety over that of Imperial soldiers.
"Is the Ewok encampment even safe at this point after the airlift position was compromised?" he asked to cover his uncertainty about how to express gratitude to the siblings.
"Your friend–"
"Do not call him that," said Jerjerrod sharply.
"The general did not have a clear idea of the path we took to get to the med evac site, but he does have an idea of which direction to look from there, so we have scouts out on patrol to alert us of any Imperial activity that our scanners don't pick up. If you'd like to contribute, you may, but I need to be certain that you will be rational when and if you are called to action."
"If you're insinuating that I will harshly interrogate every soldier I come across to ask about Conan and Firmus, I'm disappointed in you for thinking so little of me, Commander."
Commander Skywalker gave him an empathetic glance. "I wouldn't think any less of you if you did that because I would have done the same and nearly did a year ago when I knew Vader had taken my sister and friends hostage. I made hasty decisions that almost got me killed because I was desperate to get to them and I'm asking you to be mindful when you make your decisions because the consequences are worse for us who make our decisions with the influence of the Force. You're older than me by a significant margin to understand that there is loss in war, but you're attached to your friends too closely for someone who has the powers that you have, so you have to be careful."
"Are you suggesting that if the Emperor had a hold of your sister and friends in the moment and dangled their lives in front of you and told you to comply with his demands, you wouldn't do anything?"
"I wouldn't, but only because now I know better. That is how the Jedi used to be taught, to not form attachments that might distract the mind. You had the advantage of being raised in an environment where attachment was forbidden, but despite all of that, you still hold too tightly to your friends. You and I both missed the opportunity to go through the Jedi trials that would have prepared us for encounters where we had to choose between our friends and the greater good."
Jerjerrod, who had had one too many conversations with Veers on the greater good and had seen what sort of good came from those situations, was having none of it. "Then I'm glad to have never faced the trials, because I don't need a test to tell me that I would be saving many more lives by sacrificing the few who mean the most to me."
"The trials didn't just teach sacrifice; they taught courage by having the apprentice confront and overcome their deepest fears, they exposed the apprentice to their weaknesses and helped them resist those weaknesses, and they taught insight by evaluating the apprentice's ability to resist deception and illusion."
"I say again, I'm quite glad to have never been subjected to that sort of nonsense. I'm facing trials enough as it is."
"No argument there," said Commander Skywalker. "But you understand that I'm not completely comfortable with you performing at the level you were due to your injury and loss?"
"I don't consider it a loss yet," said Jerjerrod unflinchingly. "You won't allow me to look for them, and so I can only assume it is because they're still alive and by looking, you're afraid I might do something less-than-advisable by trying to make my way off this moon to go and single-handedly rescue them. Or else they're dead, in which case you would have told me outright. But you told your sister to advise me or rather command me not to look for them because if I did, I would be putting us all in danger. So my friends are still alive and therefore, not a loss to me. I have suffered a grave injury, but since my only loss that I did not have prior to the last time we spoke is in the manner of blood supply, I am perfectly able to perform my previous duties."
He proved himself by burrowing the pain deep within his chest and walking out of the room. If the Jedi wanted to keep his mind from wandering enough to try and reach out to Motti and Piett, he would have to assign Jerjerrod to an active duty because sitting idly was the best way to make him cave in to his brain's demands.
/ /
The goal was to tire himself out to the point that he physically could not keep his eyes open upon his return to camp every evening. Commander Skywalker had him paired with another rebel during every scouting excursion more for the safety of others rather than his own and Jerjerrod trekked the rugged terrain with no complaints even when his side threatened to split back open again and refresh his still healing blaster wound. He had earned himself the admiring glances of several rebels who were impressed with how he had given his flesh and blood to protect them even if he did still have an association with Veers who had left such a stain upon the camp that word reached his ears of the absolutely foul things a few rebels planned to do to him if ever they caught him. It all paled in comparison to what Jerjerrod would have liked to do to Veers if the general was unlucky enough to cross his path again.
He had had little time to think about Veers since regaining consciousness, but as he listened every day to news of possible Imperial movement, he imagined himself cutting across acres of forest just to be the first to reach Veers and beat him within an inch of his life. It should not have been as big of a sting as it was to be betrayed so many times and then yet again by this man, and yet Jerjerrod (and he suspected Piett as well) had held out a hope that Veers would choose their side just once, but it was a grim hope, and one that was dashed and buried when Jerjerrod saw Veers standing in that clearing with triumph and smugness etched into his features in the subtle way that only he could manage.
On top of working himself past the brink of exhaustion every day, Jerjerrod was also bored senseless with patrol after patrol of nothing: no mention of Imperial movement, no sign of a lost trooper, no communication to try and establish a connection with them to ransom Motti and Piett. Commander Skywalker, General Solo, Leia, and Chewbacca were arranging some sort of master plan with the Ewoks, but Jerjerrod was not given access to that information, which he found strange, until he realized that whether or not he was aware of it, he had been put in charge of all patrols and that despite having nothing to report, he was the one delegating assignments every day. He had been so preoccupied with his own inner turmoil that he had not been aware of his actions half the time and though he performed his job admirably, he was going through the motions on autopilot, which was why he was quite surprised to find himself being prodded with another rebel's blaster to rouse him from his thoughts at some point close to the end of his shift some days (or maybe months) later.
"What?" he asked his scouting companion, Bithian.
"That sounded like an AT-ST walker, sir," said Bithian. He could tell that she wanted to add, "Weren't you listening?" but chose to hold her tongue on that last bit.
"I don't hear anything," he admitted honestly.
"It stopped, but it can't have been more than half a mile away in that direction." Bithian pointed with her blaster rifle to the northwest.
"We'll investigate, but do not engage. Stay low and hidden and if I don't make it back to the river in half an hour, you follow it back to camp. Don't wait for me."
"Are we splitting up, Commander?"
"Just to cover an equal distance in two slightly different directions."
He could see that she did not agree with his strategy, but since he had seniority over her, she had no choice but to comply and took the path slightly right while he went dead center from the direction she had pointed out. As he went, he held the comlink to his mouth and spoke softly into it, "E-base, this is Commander Jerjerrod. Following a possible lead of an AT-ST in the area. Will report when and if we find it."
"Copy, Commander. Do not engage," said the stern voice of General Solo.
Since becoming enlightened to the ways of the Force, Jerjerrod found himself becoming more aware of how he walked and how much noise his boots made as he tread about and he was now quite apt in stealing through the trees with nary a sound. He did not have any memory of ever wanting to engage in battle, but his pulse was quickening and the anticipation of what he might find was starting to set his nerves on edge since this was the first time he would be seeking out a fight. Moving swiftly and deftly at a speed surely no other rebel but the Jedi could achieve, he caught a flicker of the setting sunlight glinting off the metallic shell of the top of an AT-ST walker some forty yards ahead of him and as he slowed down, he saw that the walker was stationary.
Checking to ensure that he was properly concealed by his clothing, he stole forward, listening intently for voices of the operations officer and a specialist or ensign. He was rewarded for his stealth with the sight of two domed mid-gray helmets that ended sharply just above the shoulder to protect the neck of the Imperial soldiers wearing them. They had placed themselves in the appropriate positions: one soldier to examine the forest floor, one to guard the other's back.
It would have to be the work of a moment to kill them both since neither knew he was there hidden in the brush, but Jerjerrod had to not be so impulsive if he wanted to subdue both soldiers to be taken alive for questioning. General Solo had given the order to not engage, but that was assuming that the soldiers were in the AT-ST and not here on the ground unaware and unprepared. Double checking that his blaster was set to stun, he aimed for the surveying soldier and fired. The stun shock took the soldier to the chest and the force drove him back two feet.
The kneeling soldier wheeled around as his companion's body hit the ground, drawing on Jerjerrod as if he knew exactly where he was, but Jerjerrod was quicker and focusing on the weapon in the man's hands, imagined it flying far out of its owner's reach. In real time, he watched the blaster go soaring sideways as if yanked out of the soldier's hand and Jerjerrod looked past the extended arm to see Veers's dark, unforgiving gray eyes widen at the sight of him.
Somewhere deep within his conscience or perhaps it was an echo of something he had not yet heard in person, there came the sounds of Motti and Piett screaming. Shaking in fury, Jerjerrod saw a crackle of electric blue waves piercing the bodies of both of his friends as if he had a vantage point from the Emperor's throne room where both men lay in trembling fits of agony. The truth pieced together in his mind that Veers had been witness to this very scene and had let it happen.
Before he had the intention of doing it, Jerjerrod threw out his hand to send Veers crashing into the base of the tree trunk behind him. Veers's back had just collided solidly with the wood when Jerjerrod swiped his hand to the side and Veers rammed against a second trunk.
Without meaning to, without any control over it, Jerjerrod felt pain ripple through his chest at the same time that a quick stab of pain and a memory that wasn't his shot through his head. He saw his friends, their faces clear and their strength failing. He heard them cry out in anguish, heard their own conscience begging for them to end their lives if it would mean escaping the living hell they were caught in now. He latched onto them for the briefest moment to send them a sign that he had seen them and knew their pain. All he could do was make them a promise in that microscopic second of time before he had to physically pry himself away and return to the sight of Veers starting to regain his feet.
The Jedi would spout some dire warning about what it would mean to give in to his emotions just now, but he didn't give a damn what the Jedi thought of him. This anger was all that was keeping Veers from going for his own weapon and Jerjerrod was all too keen to use it. He cut his hand parallel to the ground again and Veers flew into the first tree trunk again. For several more seconds Jerjerrod threw him about hard enough to daze him, but not violently enough to break bones until Veers managed to holler through a mouthful of blood from biting his tongue, "Enough, dammit!"
"You watched it happen, didn't you? You watched what the Sith did to them and you did nothing. I will say when you've had enough and that isn't until I feel satisfied that you've atoned for the things you've done to us. You let the Sith do those things to them and you didn't feel any remorse at all, did you?"
"I–"
"Lie to me," Jerjerrod invited dangerously. "Lie to me, Maximilian, and I will know, and I will kill you for it."
Veers looked as if he would have liked to do just that, but the fact that he did not attempt to refute Jerjerrod's claims told Jerjerrod all he needed to know.
"Did you enjoy watching them suffer? Was it satisfying to see that up close?"
"If I said yes, would that make you feel better?" Veers spat.
No, it wouldn't, because even as Veers said it, Jerjerrod could sense what Veers had felt at that moment when he watched the Sith do such horrible things to Motti and Piett, and it was not enjoyment or satisfaction. He had felt–confusion. Confusion?
"Are they alive?" Jerjerrod asked, for Veers's answer would determine what happened next.
"When last I spoke to Lord Vader, yes."
"And when was that?"
"This morning."
"What's happened to them?"
Jerjerrod witnessed the miracle of Veers wincing slightly as if the memory brought him physical pain. "Firmus has been subjected to the IT-0 droid daily."
A cold wave swept over Jerjerrod at the thought of what that meant. He had never had to give the order to use that droid on any living soul, but he knew of its reputation thanks to Motti who had witnessed its use on Leia and Leia herself who had recounted the effects on her. He could not forget the princess's face when she described the unimaginable pain she endured and it was only one session with the droid whereas Piett was having to go through that pain every day for how long?
"How can you say that to me so calmly?" he demanded of Veers. "How can you accept what they're doing to him with no remorse at all?"
"I told you all that we would meet as enemies if you chose to break with me and side with the rebels. I warned you, did I not?" reminded Veers unapologetically. "That includes not coming to the rescue when you fools faced inevitable torture. I offered Firmus a merciful death twice and he turned me down both times."
"Thatis your solution? You think that offering to kill us yourselves somehow makes this even? You unimaginable, selfish son of a-"
"I am not in a position to do anything else except that, and I offered something that was not mine to give in recognition of their courage. It's their own damn fault for not taking it. The Emperor is trying to force Conan into using his powers on Firmus by attempting to have them duel each other, but Conan refuses, and is suffering for it. Now, I can only guess what is happening to make Conan into some sort of product of the dark side. All I know is that the effort is not going well."
That would stand to reason that Motti was still holding on, fighting the Sith with everything he had, and that as the ordinary human he was, Piett was also standing his ground. They were still alive and they were not giving in, but their time was running out because even the strongest minds could snap as a coping mechanism when the body could take no more pain. Not being aware of one's surroundings allowed one to distance oneself from pain, and if Motti and Piett were pushed to that point, nothing would be able to bring them back.
"Does the Emperor plan to make Conan his apprentice, or did he express a greater desire to make Luke Skywalker or myself his next pupil?"
"As far as I'm concerned, he wants all three of you for different reasons, while Lord Vader only wants Skywalker."
"I wonder if they might consider a trade," Jerjerrod mused, more to himself than to Veers. The Jedi would be raving right now if he knew what Jerjerrod was planning, but this was not anyone's decision to make but Jerjerrod's. "I could trade you," he said thoughtfully as he considered Veers.
"That would do you no good," said Veers, and it clearly pained him to say so.
"What makes you say that?" asked Jerjerrod knowingly. "It couldn't possibly be because of something I already told you multiple times and something you witnessed for yourself? Tell me, General, why would you even imagine that your beloved Empire would not hesitate to take you back in an instant?"
"Don't patronize me, Tiaan. Events have come to light that have led me to conclude that the Emperor would only exchange prisoners if it meant he was receiving two very specific prisoners in return, and I am not one of them."
"I find that hard to believe. You are apparently invaluable to the Sith, aren't you? You helped them capture two known fugitives, you gave them an insight to a narrowed down location of the rebel hideout, you returned nearly a hundred men to them, not that their own men mean anything to them–"
If he hadn't been focused on prying into Veers's emotions, he would not have felt it, but the stab of pain he sensed there drew him up short. He sensed uncertainty, betrayal, perhaps even loss, and as he delved deeper into the root of those emotions, he saw four men in Imperial garb on their knees with blasters to their head and each one keeled over dead.
"All of them?" he asked quietly.
"Eighty-four men," Veers confirmed.
"Then why," said Jerjerrod, feeling his voice rising, " in the hell do you still have that blasted uniform on?"
"What else would I be wearing?"
It was not a rhetorical question, but a genuine one of discomfiture. Jerjerrod had never seen Veers in anything except the school uniform and the Imperial soldier uniform, so what else would he be wearing? He would never wear a rebel's garb, and now he was hesitant to don the ensemble that defined him. No one knew what Maximilian Veers looked like without his cloak of gray and no one could conjure a thought of him wearing anything else. No one could imagine him as anything but what he was.
"You'll have plenty of time to wonder how those eighty-four men might have lived if you had had a shred of humanity left in you. You and I are going up into that walker and then you're going to take us to the nearest outpost and tell all the men stationed there to stand down. Then you're going to put in a call to Vader for me so that I may speak to him and open negotiations for getting my men back."
"You must know that nothing is as simple as that when it comes to the Sith."
"Let me worry about that. Your only purpose now is to be used as a bargaining chip." Jerjerrod finally approached Veers as an indication that Veers should stand up. "However, the rebels will think you handed yourself over to me without a fight and if the Sith see you unscathed, they'll think you planned to surrender and side with the rebels, which would make you useless to me. Both parties will wonder how I captured you so easily even though it was quite easy because all your battle experience can't help you in the face of a greater power."
Jerjerrod was not one to gloat, but he did enjoy putting Veers in his place and reminding him that as powerful of a man he was, he was only a man, and could never be anything more.
"I already took all of this into account. You'll have to shoot me." Veers pointed to an area in his side, close to where Jerjerrod himself had been shot. "Minimal damage, excessive bleeding, but nothing a transfusion won't be able to remedy."
"That's a precise shot," Jerjerrod observed.
"You had best make it look convincing, then."
For a man who did not seem pleased at being taken captive again by the rebels, Veers had come up with an answer for their dilemma rather quickly, and Jerjerrod would have pondered this further if he had had a moment to, but Motti and Piett did not have enough time for Jerjerrod to be wasting any of it. He took aim with his blaster, knowing that at such close quarters, he couldn't very well miss, but at the last second, he switched to his lightsaber instead and raked it down across Veers's face, then doubled back up to slice him across the collarbone. Veers clapped a hand to his face as he gave a visceral outcry and his body angled backward into a nearly graceful dive.
Jerjerrod did not dare tell him that he was only half-confident in his ability to inflict damage and not actually kill Veers. He had wanted Veers to hurt in such a way that he never had before, and as a man who had worked alongside the only beings to wield lightsabers for some twenty-odd years, he would not have been subjected to such pain as the sort he was experiencing now.
It was impossible to clasp the burning wounds shut with his bare hands, and all he could do was lay there, trembling as the pain prevented him from tending to his injuries.
"You bastard," he cursed at Jerjerrod with loathing in his eyes.
"You don't get to say a word to me about this. Not one. You deserved that. Now, stand up." Veers was favoring his human leg and as he used it to plant himself, Jerjerrod grabbed hold of his injured arm, which sent him back down to both knees. Pushing into Veers's mind intentionally this time, Jerjerrod saw Motti standing above him and felt pain resonating in his mechno-leg and shoulder. It was just a quick glimpse, but it was enough to make Jerjerrod feel a proud pang in his chest for Motti.
"I'll make sure Firmus gets the chance to leave you with a token of appreciation as well," said Jerjerrod vengefully.
"He had his chance," seethed Veers, eyes streaming from the hold Jerjerrod had on his shoulder. "His only weapon is words and he's used all he can spare on me."
"That just means he's a better man than you give him credit for." Jerjerrod yanked Veers to his feet with strength he did not know he possessed and shoved him between the shoulder blades. "Walk, General."
"The ensign?" Veers gestured at his companion who was still out cold.
Jerjerrod sent the coordinates of their location to Bithian and told her, "I've secured both soldiers from the walker. One is stunned and will be in binders when you arrive. Once this soldier regains consciousness, lead him blindfolded back to camp and let them know I will be in contact."
"Copy, Commander, but where are you going?"
He didn't answer, for he knew that if he revealed his plan, Commander Skywalker would come barging through the forest to stop him, and he could afford no distractions at this time. Placing the ensign's own binders on their owner's wrists, he left the soldier where he lay and then motioned for Veers to start walking to the base of one colossal foot of the AT-ST walker. He made Veers climb first with a warning that he would lose a limb if he made any unsanctioned movements and watched the general use the built in handholds to make his way up into the cockpit. Once inside, Jerjerrod sat at the back and urged Veers to start the trek back to the nearest outpost while watching him for a sign that he was attempting to signal for help.
As a man who had spent most of his life gliding effortlessly through space in a stable condition, sitting in this hunk of metal that shifted about with every step was new territory, and one that made him sick to his stomach, but he could not spare a moment to vomit when he needed his full attention on Veers and in any case, there was nowhere for the vomit to go but onto the floor beside him and it would surely end up all over him at this rate.
The sun was almost completely gone by the time they arrived outside the outpost where ten men stood guard and all turned their attention to the AT-ST with polite interest.
"How many inside?" asked Jerjerrod.
"Fifteen," answered Veers tonelessly.
"Tell them all to lower their weapons and file out, hands on their heads. They're to sit down facing outward and wait for the rebels to arrive. So long as they comply, they won't be harmed, but let them know that this walker's cannons will be turned on them if they attempt any form of retaliation or escape."
"You won't shoot them down in cold blood," said Veers with doubt.
"No, but they don't know that. I will stun them, wound them, or incapacitate them in some form, but they cannot be allowed to alert the other outposts. Jam their signal now."
Veers turned on a series of buttons on his dashboard and then with a wince and a sigh, he opened the top hatch and stood up. From the ground and in the dying light, the troopers could not clearly see his face, and one called out to him to greet him.
"Any sign of the rebels, General?"
"All troops lay down your weapons now, place your hands atop your head, and sit down, facing away from the bunker. All remaining personnel inside are to do the same, coming out unarmed. This outpost is now under rebel control."
"Sir?" said the first trooper who had spoken.
Jerjerrod stood up beside Veers and clambered out, knocking his knee against the back of Veers's head as he did so. He pointed his blaster at Veers's skull as he knelt behind him. "Your general gave you a direct order, trooper, I suggest you obey it. Anyone who does not comply with these instructions will be dealt with accordingly. If you do as you are told, you need not worry about your fates."
"Imperial stormtroopers don't negotiate with rebels and don't surrender," said another trooper boldly.
Jerjerrod squeezed his left hand as if it held the controls to the operating yoke inside the cockpit and the button to activate the cannon fired ten feet from where the trooper stood. Dirt and other debris exploded and rained down on them and several troopers fell back in surprise.
"Think of your men, soldier, and know that no harm will come to you if you surrender. The rebels treat their prisoners fairly, unlike the Empire. Those soldiers who had been captured by the rebels and recently rescued by Imperial forces were executed on the Emperor's orders. That is how your masters value your lives."
"How would you know?" demanded yet another trooper, though he sounded frightened as if he had feared this, but refused to believe it was true.
"Ask your general. He was witness to it and made to hold his silence under pain of death. And I know this because I was just as easily discarded by the Empire. Your records will show all of those stormtrooper active numbers are now on the deceased list, as it will show that Admirals Conan Motti and Firmus Piett are currently being held for treason when they were the ones who ensured safe and fair treatment from the rebels for their men. Your records will show that Commander Tiaan Jerjerrod has a hefty price on his head and that he is not to be approached unless capture is imminent because he is dangerous, a traitor, and a man who cares nothing for the Empire. While that much is true, I do care for the men who served under me and men who had no choice but to do as their masters commanded. I am imploring you all to stand down so that your lives will be spared, but make no mistake that I will do what I must to maintain order and preserve the rebel's whereabouts. I no longer serve the Empire or the man whose sole purpose is to rule it with no mercy and no care for what happens to the people it crushes under its boot, so long as he remains in power. Stand down, and save the lives of those men around you."
"How can we be sure that you're who you say you are and not just some rebel?"
"No rebel would go to this much trouble to preserve the lives of men who are not their own," Jerjerrod pointed out.
"But we aren't your men either, if you are Commander Jerjerrod. We're army men, not naval."
"You are General Veers's men," he reasoned. This was one instance where Veers's reputation among all stormtroopers would work in Jerjerrod's favor. "You trust the general with your lives because he is known among you as I was known among my men: as a fiercely protective leader who prioritizes the preservation of life. He knew me once as a friend and his word is that he recognizes me for who I am now. You may not be directly serving under me, but I still recognize any man in Imperial uniform as my own and my goal is to prevent bloodshed. If you surrender, know that while you will not be harmed by the rebels, you cannot return to your life as a servant of the Empire unless you wish to be executed for your commitment."
"What assurances do we have that you won't kill us as soon as we lay down our weapons?"
"If I had wanted to kill you all, I could have. I came here with General Veers to give you all a chance. I need the communicating power this outpost has, and nothing more. I have no interest in killing soldiers and neither do the rebels."
They had to know this, as his reputation preceded him and army troopers had been trying to transfer to the Death Star just to avoid the front lines since they knew that he would speak for them. Though they would not recognize his face, they would know how much he had put on the line for his own men, which meant a great deal to those men who knew that they existed only to die. They were given numbers and no identity apart from being one more body to cast into the chasm of chaos in the hopes of maintaining a hold on the galaxy. They had to know that they were seen as expendable, replaceable, just a means to an end.
"You all are cannon fodder in the grand scheme of things, and I would save you if I could, which is why I fight for the rebels now. If you know of me and my reputation, you know that I have spoken for my men on numerous occasions, and I was shot down on Lord Vader's orders for my loyalty. I led the survivors of my shuttle crash to safety and when they were reclaimed by the Empire, they were killed. Those men would have lived thanks to my efforts, but they're dead now because the Empire holds no value in the lives of the men who make it what it is. Those who are the foundation, who hold up the pillars of this dynasty, are those the Empire cares nothing for. And the Empire will not thank a single one of you for fighting for it if you choose to turn your weapons against me now. The Emperor will have you executed for failing to kill rebels and hide the truth from the millions of other soldiers who have yet to discover the truth. If ever you men had an independent thought, now would be the time to use it."
"Stand down, all of you," ordered Veers. "You have my word as your commanding officer that you shall come to no harm if you do as I say now."
The trooper who had sounded so afraid of his own mortality was the first to throw down his blaster rifle and the others followed in quick succession. No sooner had they all sat down in place that the remaining fifteen men inside the bunker come out in full surrender, though Jerjerrod could see that some were in officer garb and their bare faces spoke of anger at the news of what had become of their fellow men. Pleased and relieved that he had not had to resort to violence to claim the outpost, Jerjerrod sent his coordinates to Commander Skywalker with a quick message that he had overtaken the outpost and now needed an escort or transport for twenty-five captured men. He turned off his comlink to not hear the reprimand from the Jedi and then sat on the AT-ST roof with his legs dangling inside the cockpit, breathing out a sigh of fatigue from the day's endeavors.
It would be three, maybe four hours until the rebels could reach them from the Ewok camp, and they were in for a long and insipid wait since Jerjerrod needed to remain in this position to maintain authority and control over the soldiers below, though he did not sense any immediate changes of heart in them. They were none of them too keen to have their legs blown off by the ion cannons.
The Jedi had been teaching him how to quiet his mind and displace himself from his own body as a form of meditation to ride out pain or in this case, boredom. For the first hour or so, Jerjerrod was able to employ this technique with some success, but as the nocturnal sounds of the forest grew to an annoying decibel level, he could no longer ignore the happenings around him. His stomach made rather a show of demonstrating its best impression of a wampa growl and he became aware of how this was the first time in days, perhaps weeks, that he actually felt hunger. He knew he had to have eaten since his release from the medical frigate, but he couldn't recall ever doing so. Since he could not find a ration pack on him, he knew he would have to wait for the rebels and as he rubbed at his belly, he watched Veers testing the movement of his injured arm below in the cockpit.
"Lord Vader will be anticipating my report," he told Jerjerrod.
"If he initiates the call, we will deal with it then, but I want to state my conditions for negotiating before he has a chance to speak, so I will contact him when I'm ready."
"I don't believe I have that sort of time to wait to treat these blade wounds, so I am going to reach under the control panel for the medical kit and tend to myself, unless you have some sort of objection to that," said Veers bitterly.
"If your hand comes up with anything other than that kit, you lose that hand," Jerjerrod told him plainly. "And you can't really afford to lose anymore limbs, can you? Unless your goal is to become a carbon copy of Vader since you admire him to the point of obsessive worship."
"As Firmus has reminded me several times," said Veers with strain as he reached for the kit and emerged with a vivid green box which he held up for Jerjerrod to see. He set the box on the dashboard and rummaged in it one-handed for a disinfectant syringe and quick-sealing coating, but given that he couldn't see what he was doing, he was making rather a mess of it all. How humbling it was for him to struggle and be seen doing so.
Jerjerrod did not feel any sympathy for the wounds he had inflicted upon Veers, but he did take pity on him for failing miserably at dressing his own wounds when he was ill-equipped to do so.
"Sit up here and I'll help you," Jerjerrod offered as if he was not the cause of Veers's injuries.
"That statement was almost enough to elicit a chuckle from me," said Veers dryly and as a man who had probably never laughed in his entire life, that was quite an achievement.
"That wasn't a suggestion. I need you alive, if not whole, and so I will dress your wounds, General. Climb up here and sit."
Veers closed the kit with a snap and tossed it with uncharacteristic exasperation up into Jerjerrod's lap before squeezing up past Jerjerrod's legs to sit across from him. No words were exchanged as Jerjerrod put the sealant on both lightsaber lacerations which sent up a foul-smelling smoke as the binding process began to take effect. It was only a temporary measure, for he would need more intensive care to seal the wounds for good and since bacta was in short supply, he would have to make do with old-fashioned stitching, which would only add to his collection of scars. He hadn't noticed until now that the mark he had left on Veers's face was almost identical to the one he had earned from his battle in the Hoth system, making for two matching scars of what used to be an unmarked, strong-chinned, but otherwise handsome face.
Ripping off a section of holding tape with his teeth, Jerjerrod pressed it over a wad of medical-grade gauze and as he did so, he sensed rather than saw Veers's eyes on the cylindrical grip at his belt.
"You're not quick enough," he told Veers simply.
"Supposing that I did reach for it, are you telling me that your abilities are enough to counter mine?" asked Veers skeptically.
"My abilities allow me to anticipate before something happens. The Sith and Jedi use this to beat faster and stronger opponents, so while you have always been stronger and more established as a warrior on the battlefield, I can feel your actions before you commit to them."
"So by default, you would win by cheating."
"If that's the way you choose to look at–"
Jerjerrod's hand snapped down and closed around Veers's wrist as Veers reached for the lightsaber with fascinating speed for such a large man. He had not anticipated Veers to make good on his observation any more than he anticipated that he would have the skills to prevent Veers from taking the lightsaber. He had boasted skills that he was unsure of, and the accuracy of those skills had startled him. For Veers, though, it was merely a test to see just how attuned Jerjerrod was to his new senses, but in that moment, Jerjerrod feared having to put his full strength against Veers to prevent the latter from obtaining a hold on the lightsaber. He did not want to see how he matched physically against Veers now anymore than he did before he knew of the Force, but Veers had a longing and curious expression as if he would like nothing more. This was the closest he would ever be to finding out how he measured up to a Force user.
With a flex of the muscles at the base of his neck, Veers made a calculated move to press some of his weight against Jerjerrod and see how he would react to this challenge. Setting aside the aid of the Force, Jerjerrod was able to see that if it had been a matter of him and Veers strictly in a match of human against human, he would not win. Veers was simply too strong and strong-willed.
"If you get your fingers around that grip, your men will follow your lead and revolt," Jerjerrod said in a low voice to not let it carry to the soldiers down below. "And then I'll have to kill them after I run you through with the very blade you're reaching for."
"I don't believe any of you could ever bring yourselves to actually strike the mortal blow," said Veers with his eyes fixed on Jerjerrod's as if trying to read him in reverse despite having no powers of the Force.
"Don't force my hand to find out for yourself. You know what a man can do when pushed too far and you have pushed me far enough for my liking several times already. Let go now."
With surprising obedience, Veers slid back down into the cockpit as if his internal question had been answered and announced, "Scanners are picking up movement to the south."
Jerjerrod turned his comlink back on to hear General Solo say, "Listen here, you ornery piece of work, I will give you one more chance to answer me, and then you're gonna wish I'd shot you the day I met you."
"This is Commander Jerjerrod. I switched off my comlink because I did not have the energy to be answering your likely questions over the past several hours and needed to not be distracted. Have Commander Skywalker ignite his lightsaber to announce your presence."
"Conan's predilection for insubordination has worn off on you, and that is not a compliment," Veers observed.
"I am used to doing things a certain way and though a former space pirate means well in his methods of organization or lack thereof, his do not align with my methods, so I am not inclined to listen to him berate me for taking the initiative. But now we both must climb down and meet him, so whenever you are ready, General."
Veers neither moved nor gave any indication that he had any desire to do so. "I am in no hurry to catch a blaster shot in the face, and you can be certain that your space pirate general will lead the mob of rebels calling for my head. I don't trust any of his companions to keep their hands off of their blasters and I happen to value what little is left of my face."
"They won't touch you."
"Your blind faith in these people continues to astound me."
"As does your blind faith in the Empire continue to disappoint me," Jerjerrod snapped back. "Your life is mine. I chose to spare it and I am the only one who can decide when and if it ends while under my jurisdiction. No one will spill one drop of your blood, and that is a promise and one I know you would not extend to me if our situations were reversed. Now, climb down, or I'll throw you out."
As empty as several of Jerjerrod's threats were, he knew that Veers could sense that this one was not, and so in act of recognition that his fate was no longer his own, Veers opened the floor hatch and descended from the cockpit with Jerjerrod following just a step behind, though both of them were not prepared to face the wrath of all those rebels Veers had wronged.