Darth Vader: Hero of Naboo

Chapter 31

Tor Zastall was led to the hanger by his droid escorts. He silently eyed the place, filled with Naboo that the droids were keeping prisoner, and a small fleet worth of fighter ships. It struck Tor as bad planning, keeping so many enemies in a bay filled with spacecraft. None of the ships even appeared to be tampered with or otherwise neutralized. For all of Gunray's paranoia, he hadn't taken much effort to deal with potential security problems.

"The Viceroy wants this prisoner interrogated and processed for information," the lead droid said to a B1 command droid.

"Roger, roger. A MED-47 is en route," the commander acknowledged, turning minutely to address the human. "You will join with the other prisoners for now."

"As I've been told," Tor said with a hint of smugness, walking towards the group of captured humans, taking a seat among them.

Most of the Naboo gave him brief looks, except for one next to him. "Who are you?" he asked in a low voice.

Tor paused, looking almost surprised before chuckling under his breath. The man gave him a strange look for the reaction, prompting Tor to silence himself with a smirk. "Sorry. Just been a long time since someone didn't recognize my face," he stated idly. "Why are you all here?"

"Gunray filled up all the cells with prisoners. Officials, their families," was the answer given.

Tor nodded in understanding before turning to look the man straight in the eye. "When it happens, it'll happen fast. Try not to get shot," he said lowly.

The Naboo's eyes went wide, and several others stiffened, but none dared react more, lest they drew the attention of their captors.

"Prisoner Tor Zastall," the B1 commander addressed, pointing a blaster at the man. "Cease your communications and move to the side."

"Roger, roger," Tor grunted as he rose up, looking towards the entrance as another droid entered.

This one was grey with a blue torso, and instead of legs, its bottom half had four wheels that allowed it to roll around. Its head had an antenna on one side with large silver spherical devices for eyes, each looking around independent of the other. It also appeared to be fitted with what looked like a breath apparatus over where its mouth should be.

The MED-47 unit rolled up to the commander droid, one eye on Tor. "Is the subject requiring repairs or torture?" it asked, the hands on its skinny arms tinkering with a box that rested on a platform on top of the back set of wheels.

"Torture, L47," the command unit answered.

"Wonderful," L47 said with a hint of relish to its robotic voice.

Tor looked almost amused by the sadism the droid exhibited, taking a seat on a cargo box as the droid approached him. "Do you even know what information your Viceroy wants?" Tor asked idly.

"Unimportant. My task is to make you speak, via pain," L47 explained, pulling out a syringe from the box beneath it. "My patients have reported that the sensation caused by this is akin to tiny vermin festering, breeding, and eating under your skin. Do tell me if you experience a differing result."

Tor did not answer, nor did he resist as the droid took his arm and attempted to jab the needle through the sleeve and into his skin.

Attempted being the key term.

"Is there a problem?" one of the B1 battle droids asked.

L47 cocked its head as it held up the syringe, showing the tip broken. "You failed to remove the armor on the patent's limb," it explained, its disapproval obvious as it pulled up the sleeve to reveal the steely metal covering the man's arm, extending from the wrist to near the elbow. "This will require removal."