Chapter One: Vader's Arrival

A wedge-shaped ship cut through the star field, its angular snout pointing straight towards a green and blue planet orbited by four moons, one which looked a little strange. The moving wedge, a dreaded Imperial Star Destroyer, slowed to a halt as out of its belly popped a sleek silver starship with three wings, one on each side and one on top, escorted by two Tie Interceptors and four Tie Fighters. The menacing silver starship had royal red markings along its sides, pointing out that its passenger was of great importance.

Inside the cockpit sat two pilots, one speaking into a built-in comlink. "This is the Dark Cloak requesting permission to land in Docking Bay 801"

A voice with a Coruscanti accent answered, "State your business and cargo first."

"This if the personal shuttle of Lord Vader. Our ship's name and ranking number should confirm that."

There was a surprised silence on the other end of the comlink before the voice spoke again. "You are cleared for landing."

The shuttle and its Tie escort approached one of the moons, which closer up was revealed to be a large metal station, still in progress. This was the new Death Star, designed to be more powerful than the last one. It and three moons were orbiting the Wookiee home world of Kashyyk, where the inhabitants, victims of racist oppression, were being forced to work on this upgraded version of a technological terror. The Ties veered off to more suitable hangars as the shuttle continued on its course.

Docking Bay 801

"Moff Jerjerod!" called out a young office to a commanding man in his thirties. "Lord Vader's shuttle has arrived!"

Moff Jerjerod froze for a small instant and then quickly started to bark out orders. "Everybody, prepare a ceremonial welcome. And hurry! We know what happen when Lord Vader isn't given his respect!"

Within only a couple of minutes, rows of generals, colonels, Death Squad troopers, and storm troopers were assembled in the docking bay. Jerjerod himself stood at one end of a long path between the assembled Imperial soldiers. He remembered one time when one of his superiors, failing to give a Sith knight from Korriban a proper welcoming ceremony, was nearly choked to death for failing to respect the force-wielder. Although his men were proper and in neat rows, he was still nervous and fearful. Vader was not a man known for mercy, and he might be as easy to antagonize as the younger Korriban knights.

The shuttle came through the open docking doors, its landing struts pulling out of its belly. With a large clank and a hiss the shuttle landed on the metal hangar floor, its hull opening into a ramp. Jerjerod held his breath as a large dark figure walked down the ramp, his black cape trailing majestically behind him. Lord Vader produced his familiar loud breathing sound through his bizarre mask, and looked at the commanding imperial officers through his bulbous black lenses.

Moff Jerjerod cautiously walked forward to greet him, saluting him when he was within ten paces. Vader only gave a short look at him as he continued to walk. The moff went into step beside the Sith lord, deciding to find out the reason for his visit.

"Lord Vader, we are honored to have you aboard. If there is anything you want us to do for you…"

"How far along is the construction going?" said the tall menacing figure with his ominous low voice.

"Well, lord, we are going as fast as we can."

"You must go faster. You are already behind schedule and you still have a quarter of the station to finish."

"But sir, I need more men and a different work force. The Wookiees are excellent laborers, except for that lately they have been more troublesome, making little sabotage attempts. We need workers who are more willing, workers with more motivation besides getting beaten."

The Wookiees, fierce fury, and tall, had long been oppressed by the anti-alien beliefs of the Empire. Although primitive in appearance, they had sufficient mechanical skill. They were also too brave and headstrong, and they were hard to break.

"I want more discipline for the laborers. If possible, put some of your own men to work. We will be getting more equipment and men from the Desilijic Clan."

"The Desilijic Clan? Why are we associating with criminal Hutts? They can't be trusted!"

"We have promised them several backwater systems for them to do whatever they wish. If we need unlawful help to complete this superweapon, it will be employed. It will also provide us with more men that are more expendable than stormtroopers. And as for motivation, they will be getting money, their only true allegiance."

"Who is the prime supplier?" asked Jerjerod, hoping that it wasn't somebody as disgusting as Jabba.

"Jabba Desilijic Tuure." Jerjerod suppressed a hiss. Something as grand as the Empire shouldn't be dealing with one of the most treacherous, lustful outlaws. It was stooping to another level.

'The Emperor should reconsider, lord."

"Perhaps you can tell that to the Emperor that when he arrives."

Jerjerod froze, fear tingling up his spine. "The Emperor… is coming here?"

"He is growing impatient," Vader said as he turned. "If this station is not complete soon, the Rebel Alliance will eventually find it and destroy it while it is still under construction. He wants faster progress."

Moff Jerjerod gulped. "I shall redouble my efforts."

"For you sake, I hope so. The Emperor is not as forgiving as I am."

With that Vader stepped past Moff Jerjerod and proceeded to a turbo lift. When the doors to the lift had closed behind the menacing black figure, the Imperial officer turned to his fellow generals, hoping for some words of help, but they were just as stunned and afraid.

Jabba's Palace on Tatooine

Rising amidst the rocky dunes and crags of Tatooine stood an impressive round fortress, its coloration that of a dusty brown. There was but one entrance, a brighter, but equally dirty door that was so tall and wide that several scout walkers could pass through with ease. Near the back of the fortress was a taller round tower, which if observed closely enough, revealed several armored sentients of different species looking out for visitors or invaders.

This fortress, formerly an isolated center of study for a religious order of monks called the B'omarr, was now the well-defended resort palace of Jabba the Hutt, one of the most powerful Hutts, and one of the leading members of the galactic underworld. Although most visitors expected to find him residing on the higher floors of the large building, he in fact preferred the darker and far stinkier lower levels. The higher floors he left to guests and the B'omarr monks, who had formed a deal with him: new converts for residence in the isolated fortress.

The main court of Jabba the Hutt was in the biggest room, at the center of which was a large mobile dais. On this dais sat the slug-like being himself, surrounded in the dark corners by entertainers, guards, and criminal associates. Jabba had a greenish body with an orange belly. His tail was curled around the short furry Salacious Crumb, a Kowakian Monkey Lizard who served as a jester, although he was not considered that hilarious by most of Jabba's entourage. Also on the dais with the disgusting Hutt was a green-skinned Twi'lek slave girl, chained by the neck to Jabba's dais. Most of his entourage found her appealing, but Jabba's fellow Hutts were thoroughly confused and annoyed by how he was attracted to bipedal beings, when there were beautiful Hutt princesses around. Jabba the Hutt was one of the sickest beings in the galaxy, reviled by most of his own entourage. He only had power because of his relations and cunning, turning his own entourage against each other with the help of B'omarr spies.

Approaching the dais was a gray-skinned humanoid with yellow eyes, red hair, and spikes sticking out of his back in neat rows. He kneeled to Jabba, bowing his head and groveling. Hutts only responded to "inferior" beings if they used flattery.

"Oh most excellent and gracious Jabba. I am not worthy of bringing this message to your almighty presence."

"Your humility serves you well. Tell me the message," ordered Jabba in Huttese.

Grixter, the gray alien who was before him, said, "The Rebel Alliance led a small raid on your resort on Polus, destroying it when they couldn't find what they wanted. I believe that they are searching for their former smuggler friend, Han Solo."

Jabba roared and slammed down on the dais, startling Salacious Crumb and sending the hairy fiend jumping onto a chandelier. Grixter shook a little. Jabba was well known for following the "shoot the messenger" policy, or in this case sending emissaries into a den below the floor inhabited by a monstrous Rancor. Grixter was ready to leap to the side should that happen.

Jabba fortunately calmed down, licking some saliva off of his belly. "Who is involved? I want these Rebels found and killed!"

"The two ringleaders have been trying to find Solo for some time." Grixter looked at the Corellian smuggler, who was encased in carbonite and hanging in the center of Jabba's art collection. Jabba was very proud that his old troublesome friend, who had lost so much money for him, was now frozen and in his clutches, although Boba Fett was the one who should be congratulated. 'They are Lando Calrissian, notorious sabacc player and smuggler and, should I mention, once a great friend of Han Solo's. The other is Solo's Wookiee so-pilot, Chewbacca. They apparently do not realize that Solo is always carried wherever you go, although they should learn that soon enough. And when they do, they'll come for you."

Jabba spat a large ball of saliva, which splattered over Grixter. Not wanting to openly panic before his employer, Grixter sat silently, waiting for instructions.

"Organize a posse," bellowed the obese Hutt. "And find those two. Try to take them alive and bring them to me. If that is not possible, give them a slow and painful death."

"It shall be as you wish, your glorious excellency." Grixter took a bow and then left the court, being eyed by the various cretins hanging around for Jabba's favors. Once out of sight, he swore as he wiped off some of the saliva that caked him. "Kriffing slug."

Grixter was the head of a gang which patrolled part of Jabba's Empire. He was master of several fighting styles, and had much proficiency with weapons. Jabba paid well, but he was a pain the butt, with his self-glorifying rules of ceremony. When he had enough money, Grixter was going to hire a good assassin to fry the Hutt. Then he was going to kill the assassin to make sure he wasn't connected. He opened up his comlink and turned it on. "Hessk, get me twelve good men. We're going to hunt down the Millennium Falcon."

Vader's Quarters

The helmet was placed over the scarred bald head of Darth Vader, who had just finished a round of Sith meditation. Turning in his chair, he stood up and proceeded to his communications console. Flipping a switch, he entered a code, which gave him communication with the Slave 1, Boba Fett's Firespray-class ship. A small hologram of the armored and mysterious bounty hunter appeared from a round pad.

"Vader."

"Boba Fett."

'Do you have need of my services again?"

"Yes. As I recall, you successfully hunted down a Jedi on two occasions, ending with their deaths."

"Yes, those were very hard to take down. I nearly had my head chopped off."

"I want you to hunt down another Jedi, although he is not as experienced as your previous quarries," said Vader.

"An easier one would be nice. How much are you paying, and do you want me to record my kill again?" asked the hunter.

"No kills. I want him alive."

Boba Fett's face could not be seen thanks to his Mandalorian helmet, but his words described his reaction. "Alive? That's awfully dangerous. You had better be paying me a lot of money."

"For a million credits, I want you to find and capture Luke Skywalker. You already know much about him, in fact having met him. I and the Emperor have much interest in him."

'The pay sounds good. Is there any leads as to where he may be?"

"Either he is joining in Han Solo's rescue operation, or he is perfecting his skills on a backwater planet. Wherever he is, I am having trouble finding him. That means that the planet he is on has an unusually large amount of life. Too much life can disguise a Jedi's presence."

"That should be enough. I can wring more information out of a high-ranking Rebel. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"No, that is all."

The hologram of the bounty hunter faded and Vader stood still, his mind wandering to Luke, his son. Apparently his wife had borne him a son while in hiding. Vader had looked up the rebel pilot who had destroyed the first Death Star, and was surprised to see that they both had the same last name. Further investigation showed him to have been living with his step-brother, Owen Lars, and to have been with Obi-Wan, Vader's former master, before the old Jedi was cut down by his red blade. There were too many coincidences, and it was quickly obvious to him that Luke was his son. With his force abilities, Luke was much desired by the Emperor as a new Sith knight. The young man showed much more potential than the Sith trainees on Korriban. When Luke was once again in his clutches, Vader and Emperor Palpatine would make sure that he joined the Dark Side… or else perish.