#emsee

+++

In retrospect, Luke maybe shouldn’t have said that. A sharp knock on his door, a mere hour after his latest training session with Vader had ended, made him look up from the datapad he was studying. Luke switched off the datapad and hid it behind the pillow of the narrow couch he was lounging on. It would raise unnecessary and hard-to-answer questions if he was caught reading training handbook for junior navy officers.

Luke had refused to study it at first on principle, but boredom had gotten the better of Luke. Of course, he left out all the loyalty and propaganda material. Trimmed of all that dripping praise for the Emperor or the appalling lines about non-human species, the remaining topics on tactics, supply chain management and fleet movements were actually quite interesting.

With a frown, Luke checked the chrono. It was way too early for his dinner and after his earlier training session with Vader, his father was unlikely to come to see him again.

Emsee whistled.

It was no food delivery. The doorway was blocked by a huge crate, pushed in by two technicians in grey jumpsuits. They began unpacking the box and assemble what was inside under the watchful gaze of an officer.

“What is that?” Luke demanded, eying the crate and the parts the soldiers.

He didn’t get an answer, but it didn’t take long either and the men left Luke with a fully assembled and functioning treadmill occupying most of the free space of his living area.

+++

“You have not used it,” Vader remarked.

Considering his father rarely went to see him in his quarters as not to raise suspicions why he was paying his hostage too much attention this must be the reason why he had come this time. Luke wouldn’t put it past his father that the whole training monstrum was rigged to feed back his activity, or rather inactivity, on his father’s daily update report.

Luke crossed his arms defensively, glaring at the treadmill and back at Vader. He wouldn’t back down on this. “Is that a joke? Do you think I am a mooka that I just run on it like on a wheel?”

“It is beneficial for your health and will help with your training.”

“I’m not doing it!”

Vader eyed him, disapproval hanging heavily between them,

“Your stamina is abysmal.”

Luke flustered. “And whose fault is that, I used to play nuna ball twice a week, I hadstamina.”

“But now that you are here you have to adapt to it. All troops and personnel on board are required to exercise to offset the detrimental effects of the limited movement-“

“I’m not personnel. I am a prisoner.”

“Regardless, exercising will help with your overall wellbeing.”

“Like that is motivating.”

“Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate you.”

Luke glowered at him. “It’s just a cheap way of keep me locked up in here even longer.”

Vader straightened up, crossing his arms behind his back. “I understand your discontent with this arrangement,” he said. “I propose an incentive.”

“Like what?” Luke asked suspiciously.

“How about a holo movie of your choice.”

“Try again.”

“I can have the admiral procure you more datapads.”

Luke just huffed.

“What is it then that you desire in return?”

“How about you take me planetside. I haven’t had any fresh air since Carida. You just went planetside last week.”

“And how would you know that?” Vader demanded sharply.

“I saw a shuttle leave while we were in orbit above that blue and purple planet.”

“What makes you think I was on board that shuttle?”

“The admiral came and visited me for a whole two hours. He only has that much time when you are away. So what about it, will you take me on your next trip?”

“Perceptive,” Vader conceded. “But I cannot grant you your request.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like I can run away when you are watching me.”

Vader just stared at him, impatience and disapproval hanging between them.

“Fine then how about dessert?”

“You already receive the best rations available.”

Luke snorted. What would he give for having back the fine food they used to have at the palace in Aldera. What the imperial navy considered the best possible standard rations, reserved for their high-ranking officers, was already an unappealing pre-made, de- and later rehydrated tasteless substance.

“Like you can’t procure anything better than that, surely-“

Vader waved him off. “Very well. But only if you run ten miles per day.”

“Ten miles?”

“Yes, for a start, over time you will have to increase-“

“That’s way too much!”

“Then you better get to it if you wish to have your reward.”

+++ Luke had halfheartedly run for a while until he had well and truly lost any interest in whatever desert Vader could come up with. Luke had always found it dull to run and it only got worse when he had to do it on a treadmill three sizes too big for his quarters and staring at a bare grey durasteel wall. The machine still only showed just under two miles performance, despite Luke’s effort.

Luke jumped off the thing.

“This is stupid,” he huffed when Emsee beeped questioningly. “I’m not doing this.”

Emsee rolled forward and nudged against the treadmill.

“Really? You want to try it?”

Luke only got a flurry of sounds as response. He shrugged. “If you want. Not sure you can get ti moving though.” He bent down to put the small mouse droid on the belt. Emsee whirred forward on his small wheels and to Luke’s surprise the machine started counting again. Faster and faster the distance measured rose, two and a half miles, two and three quarter, three miles, as Emsee sped at his absolute top speed. It didn’t take long and the treadmill had logged ten miles. Luke laughed and cheered Emsee on for another while until the little droid needed to power down.

The cheesecake he received as his reward later that evening was surprisingly good even though Luke wasn’t sure if he’d actually want to know how Vader had managed to procure it.

+++

It took only a few days until Vader stood again in Luke’s living area, giving off the air of impatience and anger. Luke looked up from where he was lounging comfortably on his couch. Luke thought he was lucky that Emsee was currently recharging in the corner. He tried to look innocently.

“You are unwise to believe you could fool me this easily,” Vader said, without preamble. “You should have kept the parameters at a believable level. 16 miles within one hour?”

Luke crossed his arms defensively. “Fine, then no more rewards.”

“I am afraid it is not that easy, your Highness. You have received three rewards so far Since I upheld my end of the deal, you now owe me a total of thirty miles.”

Luke stared at Vader incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Start. You will complete the first right now.” Vader stalked over to the couch that Luke vacated only with great reluctance, his bulk more crashing onto it than sitting down.

Luke clambered on the treadmill with a glare that could melt durasteel.

“Fine, but don’t think I would run a single mile on this thing after I am done.”

“We will see, son,” Vader replied smugly and if anything, that strengthen Luke’s resolve not to take even one step on the blasted treadmill.

+++

From the safe distance of the overlooking balcony, Admiral Piett watched the conflict unfolding in the multipurpose hall 14-2, usually training ground for the Executor’s Stormtrooper compliment, below him. Vader had enlisted the duty of one of the most feared drill sergeants of the 501st, Vader’s dreaded fist. It should have been a simple task for the experienced man to call a sixteen-year-old boy to order and discipline. But it seemed that General Veers had put his money prematurely on his sergeant. A fact that was dawning on the General, watching the drama standing next to Piett with a shaking head.

Organa’s son had yet to do a single lap on the obstacle course put up in the hall specifically for the boy’s training. And by he looks of it this wouldn’t change anytime soon, no matter how much the drill sergeant was yelling at him. Despite his unassuming stature and polite behavior, Prince Luke seemed to possess a level of obstinate pacifism that eclipsed that of his father by a wide margin. The boy mere stood, is arms crossed and chin raised to glare up at the sergeant, a good head taller than him, citing a bunch of paragraphs straight from the Imperial Charta that would make this encounter between a peaceful civilian like him and a member of his Majesty’s armed forces illegal on at least three different levels.

“Guess I better get him out of there,” General Veers announced and shoved a hundred credits Pietts way. Piett was quite certain the General was meaning to save the sergeant before the poor man would suffer a stroke from sheer consternation.

+++

Vader glared down at the sweating commanding officer of the imperial outpost, guilty of letting a flock of rebels escape by sheer incompetence. But still the man couldn’t help but let his gaze dart away from Vader to watch the young prince of Alderaan wandering around in the distance, followed closely by an escort of Stormtroopers.

But no matter how often Vader had mentally nudged, Luke seemed unable to wipe that unseemly smile off his face.