Star Wars End of Light
Chapter 2 The First Steps
Lord Vader's private shuttle, Fondor orbit, Fondor System, Tapani Sector.
Two months after the Battle of Yavin.
Vader glared at the view of the shipyard through the canopy of his shuttle. His hands flying across the controls as he worked to get every last erg of speed from the shuttles strained engines. The sight that greeted him was a swirling mass of red lights. He knew that every color was present in the vast construction yard that he was speeding towards. Even colors that he couldn't have seen before Kenobi had put him in this never sufficiently damned suit. Those colors were lost. Stolen from him. Vision ,a pilots most important sense was mutated, no mutilated into a sad parody of what it once was, as were most of his other senses. Hearing was closest to what life was like before. There was only the slight hum from the microphones that acted as his ears. The next nearest was touch, medical science had long understood how to make bio-mechanical limbs send appropriate approximations of natural tactile information to the humanoid brain. The technology was thousands of years old. If he didn't think about it he even forgot, sometimes, that touch had ever felt different. Taste was a tragedy even among all that had happened to him that long ago day on Mustafar. His taste buds were almost unharmed and had made a full recovery, but his body was so damaged that all he could digest was a cloyingly sweet mixture of sugars, protein, and starch that his medi-droids adjusted constantly for his health. So he could taste the finest foods that an entire galaxy can offer him, but he could never actually eat it. Sent was just like taste, though he didn't think about it often, his nose was quite capable of detecting odor. But his lungs were so damaged by the fire that he could never use his sense of smell without risking death.
Vader pulled himself from his musings on what Kenobi and the other Jedi had stolen from him. Kenobi was dead now, at the end of his own lightsaber. He was approaching one of the executive hanger bays on his new command ship. More than a billion credits had gone into the construction of this ship. Far less than the Death Star had cost, but still not a small expenditure, even for the empire. Vader turned his focus to landing the ship. No matter the amenities of ship or hanger, landing was always a dangerous maneuver. Even the most experienced pilots could doom themselves and others with a laps in attention. All competent pilots were careful on approach and landing, and Darth Vader was far beyond merely competent behind the controls of a space craft.
He sensed a hastily formed welcoming committee rushing to greet him. Once the shuttle was safely settled on the deck he used the force to lower the ships ramp and made his was out of the ship. His large strides quickly took him to the officers of the welcoming party. "Dispense with the pomp and circumstance." His booming voice ordered gravely. "We have little time. As of this moment I am taking command of this vessel and the primary rimward fleet. Take me directly to the nearest command center, I have orders for the fleet."
Engine Compartment, Millennium Falcon, Main Hanger Bay, Rebel Base, Anzat, Anzat System, Mid Rim.
Han Solo was sure that his opponent was mocking him. He was facing some kind of malevolent force. It was like that stuff the kid was into, only directed solely at destroying him. This was his nemesis. This was it, kill or be killed.
Chewie's cry from the Falcon's cockpit pulled Han from his musings. "Are you going to get started on the overhaul or not? I'd rather not get stuck running from the damn slaver/imps (the words were the same in Wookiee.) with a bum drive system." Han shook his head and started pulling access panels from the ship's power plant. "I'm on it Chewie! Give me a sec' to get set up." He shouted back. In the short amount of time he'd spent with the rebels it had become evident to both Han and Chewie that living on the run from the empire required more from the Falcon than their previous smuggling lifestyle did. The shields, sub-light engines, and maneuvering system all needed to be upgraded if they wanted to stay alive and free.
It'd be a balancing act. If they pushed too far then the Falcon's systems would start collapsing under the strain. On the other hand they didn't have to worry so much about going under imperial customs sensors, which had been a major limiting factor in the modifications they'd made to the Falcon for smuggling work. They'd had to at least seem to be a normal tramp freighter at first brush. Considering how much heat they'd pull for running with the rebels, going under the radar wasn't going to be an option any more.
He and Chewie were going to overhaul the ships main generators to get more power out of them. It would mean that they'd need to refuel more often, but the rebels had an amazing supply train and were quite willing to keep the Falcon gassed up. They'd be able to do a lot with greater generator power. Once that was done they'd move on to working on the sublight engines. They'd already paid the rebels for mil-spec thrusters for the maneuvering system. Something to spend his reward on. The parts should be in on the next supply dump. The shields would have to be last he needed to know how much power they'd have left over to charge the things. At least the rebels were providing most of the parts for his little home improvement project. He and Chewie were only having to pay for parts that the rebels didn't keep on hand. Being a hero opened a lot of doors with these freedom fighter types. They'd even offered to help with the overhaul, but he wouldn't trust just anyone with the Falcon.
"Need a hand with that?" Han tried to jerk upright and spin to face the speaker but found that the Falcon's plumbing was in the way. His head and left shoulder slammed into some of the piping that ran all over the engine compartment. He let out a wordless cry of mixed pain and consternation as he crumpled to the floor, seeing stars. When he got his eyes working again he saw Luke kneeling over him, concern written all over his face. "Geez kid give me some warning before you speak up. Ya almost got me killed." The kid was getting creepy the way he was just popping up out of nowhere these days, almost totally silent unless he didn't want to be.
The kid smiled at him as he offered Han a hand up. "I'll take it under advisement."
Han let the kid pull him to his feat. "Are you alright, honored one?" Chewie called from the cockpit. Part of Han always rebelled at hearing the Wookiee word for the holder of a life-debt. It seemed a little to close to slavery to his human sensibilities. "Yeah, Chewie, I'm fine. Just Luke pulling his new sneak appearance act. Again." The wookiee's laughter filled the small freighter. Luke's smile grew bigger as Han took on a disgruntled expression. "Everyone's a kriffing comedian 'round here. What's up kid?"
Luke shook his head at Han's attitude. "Just thought I'd see how you were doing. Need a hand?" Luke gestured to the partially disassembled Falcon. Han thought for a moment. "Sure kid, more the merrier."
5th Tertiary Command Center, Star Dreadnought Executor, Fondor orbit, Fondor System, Tapani Sector.
Vader paced the deck slowly, none of the rage that was bubbling up from his chest was evident to the officers manning the auxiliary command center he'd commandeered. Every step forward he took seemed to lead him to take two more back to deal with the incompetence of others. He was now in command of the single greatest (remaining) collection of imperial power in a single hull, and he was unable to use it.
Delays of every kind had plagued him since he set foot off his shuttle. First the officers who greeted him did not know the location of this command center. That was of little concern. This part of the ship was newly furnished. Only the shipwrights knew where everything was at this point. Then the yardmasters of Fondor had attempted to delay the launch of the ship in yet another protest over the security precautions that were necessary in the final stages of Executor's construction. There were fewer yardmasters now. When he'd finally secured the reluctant cooperation of the yard he discovered that most of the ships stores had been pulled in favor of arming the Death Star. There had been another wing of TIE fighters on the station that he didn't know about because of some kind of bureaucratic screw up. When he'd demanded to know who it was who had given the order that had stripped his current command, he discovered it was Tarkin himself. He'd only just gotten the ship's stores dealt with, at least partially.
Vader turned and strode to the internship communication station. "Get me Admiral Ozzel."
The com tech blinked up at him a trace of concern coloring his nominal professionalism. "Sir, Admiral Ozzel is on route to the ship and is beyond contact while in hyperspace transit."
"Ozzel took command of this ship officially over a month ago. Why is he not present?" Vader's tone was deceptively flat.
"I don't know sir. We got word he was taking command a month ago as you said. He never showed up to accept command." The tech answered.
"Tell me all you know." Vader's synthesized voice conveyed his mind confusion. He was sure this would mean another delay, he just needed to know how to handle it.
"I'm afraid it's not much more than I've told you, Lord Vader. I think Captain Ridiner tried to insist that the forms be kept. The admiral had him shipped off to the outer rim somewhere. After that no one was willing to make too much of a fuss over it. Even if it did make things go a bit slower with the yard dogs."
Vader seemed to think for a bit. He then turned his attention fully towards the tech, who seemed to shrink a bit under the full force of the Dark Lord of the Sith's gaze. "What is your service information?"
The tech snapped to attention visibly fighting his nerves. "Ensign Harper, Markus communications technician 1st class operating number 8900-61A5-2003XT, sir."
"You have been most helpful Lieutenant Harper. See that you continue to be so." Vader turned and made his way out of the room. He didn't bother to notice the newly minted lieutenant's shock at his sudden promotion. He needed to deal with this absentee admiral as soon as possible, and to do that he needed facilities of the ships central command deck. Internally he raged. Again he had to deal with another foolish delay! Would they ever cease? Every minuet he was delayed the rebel's trail became colder.
Engine Compartment, Millenium Falcon, Main Hanger Bay, Rebel Base, Anzat, Anzat System, Mid Rim.
Both Han and Luke had been working on the generator for hours. Actually it was the third day they'd been working together. They were hip deep in reactor coolant/lubricant literally. "Still" Han thought "the extra hands do make things go faster." They'd be finished as soon as the kid got that last modified oscillation governor installed on the upper stabilizing flywheel.
"I think I've got it. Han, come take a look." Luke called from the other side of the generator assembly.
"That was fast. You didn't use any of that force crap did you?" Han grumbled as he got up from where he'd been checking wiring for the 5th time. You could never be too cautious with primary systems. (And he didn't remember 100 percent how the wiring was supposed to go now with all the changes.)
As Han made his way around to where Luke was eying his work, Han could almost taste the exasperation in his response. "No, Han. I didn't use the force for this. I know you don't want me mucking up your corellian mojo with my 'hokey tricks and nonsense'. I have done mechanical work before."
Han smirked as he started looking over Luke's work. "I don't know kid. Tractors ain't the same as star ships."
Luke snorted and shook his head. "Right and I'd have seen a tractor where exactly? There's nothing but green house hydroponics on Tatooine. No fields to plow. Vaporaters need a lot of TLC to keep working. Hell everything takes a lot of TLC to keep working on Tatooine." Han knew the kid was right, he and Chewie tended to do a full inspection of all exposed parts after doing a job for Jaba just for docking at Mos Islsy. Still he wasn't going to tell the kid that. "And at least here I don't have to worry about keeping the sand out of the works. It's like everything's twice as easy as it was before."
Han decided to cut Luke off before he launched into a dissertation about the Tatooine farm life. The kid started to get damn whiny if anyone let him talk about his home world for to long. "Looks good kid. I think we can close up and wash all this gunk off."
Between the two of them it was quick work to reseal the work hatches and fill the generator with new coolant/lubricant slop. They both made their way to the cleaning station attached to the hanger bay. Both were tracking slop behind them. The maintenance droids would clean up what they left on in the hanger and Chewie would do the same in the Falcon. It was a deal that Han had made years ago. Human bodies were easier to clean than fur covered wookiee bodies. Han would do all the covered in muck type repair work and Chewie would clean up after him in exchange.
Han sighed quietly to him self as he and Luke separated into the fresher stalls. He loved the Falcon as he loved few things in the galaxy. It was his passion and his home. "Sometimes" he thought, "it was far more trouble than it was worth." He knew he'd never think like that normally, but it was going to take at least an hour to get this gunk off of him. He groaned to him self as he peeled off his work overalls. He rarely wore them, but he'd rather not waste perfectly good clothes. He activated the strongest setting on the fresher unit and let the combined sonic waves and cleaning agent wash over him losing himself in the mindless task of cleaning himself.
Han sighed as he left the fresher, even wearing protective clothing it still took forever to get engine gunk clean in the fresher. He saw Luke scrubbing the blond mop that he called hair. It was darker, Han idly noticed, that it was when he first saw him in that cantina on Tatooine. Nearly everything about the kid seemed darker these days. War did that to you, Han supposed. Well, war and being exposed to some of the worst that the Empire had to offer. Han shook his head to get his mind off of the horrors that they'd both seen.
"Kid! Thanks for the assist." He called to Luke.
Luke looked up at him and waved him over. "Hey Han, I need to talk to you for a second."
Han ambled over to his younger friend. "Sure, Kid, what's up?"
Luke looked uncharacteristically serious. "You know I put in that request for extra training?" Luke continued before Han could do more than nod his understanding. "Well a slot's opened up on the Independence. Some sort of mixed piloting and commando training program. I don't know all the details but it sound like to good a deal to pass up."
Han interrupted "Look Kid we've been over this. I know this is something you've got to do for yourself. I understand. What's so pressing now."
Luke seemed to take a deep breath, probably some Jedi thing, Han thought.
"The slot that opened is for next week. If I'm going to make it I need to leave in the next couple of days." Luke's statement seemed to lie between the two friends for a moment.
Han smiled his lopsided grin halfheartedly. "So you're heading out. Who'd have thought you'd be leaving before I would. Good luck kid. You're going to need it whether it exists or not."
"Look Han, I need a favor from you, no bullshit." Luke's bright blue gaze almost seem to burn through Han like that laser sword he carried all the time. Han just nodded waiting for Luke to continue.
"Look after Leia. She's not as tough as she lets on. I'm not going to be there for her to lean on for a long time, and . . ."
Han cut him off. "Look, I know she's important to you and all but training programs only last so long. You'll be back before you know it. Then the two of you can figure out what's going on between you."
"Han," Luke's voice was softer than it usually was these days. "there is something between Leia and I, but it's not what you're thinking it is. She feels like family. I can't say why. Hell, I don't know why."
Han looked at Luke for a moment. "You know kid, I believe you. She said almost the same thing about you awhile ago."
Luke smiled. "Glad to hear it. Now all the silly male posturing is out of the way, I'm asking you as the closest thing Leia has to family around here, stick around. You both need each other. Now before you get all defensive, I know how you feel about her."
Han looked across the hanger at the Falcon and the freedom she represented. He used to fly about the Galaxy with nary a care. He felt vaguely violated by Luke's insight into his feelings. "This one of those force mumbo jumbo things?" Han asked.
"Yeah it is." Luke confirmed with a nod.
"Sithspit, kid I'd have stayed anyway. Go pack you gear or something." Han said waiving Luke off, suddenly uncomfortable with the emotional turn the conversation had taken.
Luke nodded and headed off towards the fighter pilot barracks to fallow Han's advice.
"Oh Luke! Mind giving me a hint about what she's feeling?" Han called out to Luke once he was about ten paces away.
"Where's the fun in that!" Luke taunted back over his shoulder as he walked on.
"Hey!" Han called out as he started out chasing after Luke.
Executive Hanger Bay 14, Star Dreadnought Executor Fondor orbit, Fondor System, Tapani Sector.
Technician 2nd class Yadimin was as near to the bottom of the imperial fleet as you could get and still be assigned to the Executor. On any other ship in the fleet his 2nd class rating would have him as an assistant to a section chief. On this ship he was just another grunt. Normally he'd be working down in environmental reclamation checking pipes for leaks. Everyone, even the other techs, called him a shit sniffer. But today he was about as far from shit sniffing as you could get on his pay grade. Earlier in the duty cycle Darth Vader himself had swooped down onto the not yet commissioned flagship, and lit some kind of fire under everyone's collective asses. Just about everyone was racing to get the Ex underway in as little time as possible. The ship's usual small craft support crew was frantically getting as many TIE squadrons as Fondor could spare squared away in the ships many hangers. They'd still only be at about 60 percent of the Ex's full complement but it was better than going without a fighter screen. Regular fleet types and yard dogs had put aside the usual animosity to get supplies on board so the unfinished sections of the ship could be completed on route to wherever they were going. Considering how long it took to build something the size and complexity of the Executor, the rush was beyond bizarre. Still, if Darth Vader comes up to you and says jump, you don't bother to ask how high. You start jumping and hope he doesn't make you very, very dead.
Environmental reclamation was the only system on the Ex that was fully operational. All the work was done for the moment down in the ships bowels. (pun intended) So he and his fellow shit sniffers were being sent all over the ship to do the jobs that everyone else had been pulled away from to get the ship out to space ASAP. His secondary expertise in small craft maintenance meant that he'd been assigned to check each of the ships minor hanger bays to be sure that all the small craft were properly secured. This was the thirteenth hanger he'd been to check. He was only mildly surprised to see a first rate private shuttle parked brazenly right in the center of the otherwise empty bay.
"Damn brass, bet they'd forget to wipe their asses if it didn't itch." Yadimin muttered to himself. Bio-reclamation made for some of the most creative language in the fleet. Still he'd have to write up the shuttle. Improper storage was a big no no. If the ship found it self under combat conditions a lose shuttle or fighter could cause a lot of damage. This one had just been plopped down and left. He made his way over to the shuttle to get it stowed safely. To his spacer's eye the shuttle was brand new. No carbon scoring what so ever. No micro meteor damage. No patches or obvious part replacements. It was a military grade Lambda with full armament, but it didn't have any of the subtle markers to say what unit it belonged to. Yadimin thought it had to be a private shuttle for some 'high brass ass'. Only vice-admirals and up could get their hands on a beauty like this shuttle. Hell even vice-admirals would have to kiss a bunch of ass and have some extra special connections or favors to rate this number.
The passenger deck looked untouched. Only one seat looked like it had been used, and lightly at that. Maybe it was the commanding admiral that they'd been waiting the last few months for. With Vader in his little snit. . . He shuttered and reminded himself not to think of Darth freaking Vader like that if he wanted to keep breathing. He'd have to be more careful while he was out here on the upper decks. One of the (few) perks of being an environmental tech was that no one really cared what you said or did as long as the job was done. He'd have to be careful writing up this shuttle, he didn't want to piss off any brass and get his ass shipped off to the unknown regions or worse. Still if it was the admiral then maybe things would be back to normal soon. He hated dealing with brass. Too many damn questions and almost no answers for grunts like him.
His thoughts derailed as he stepped into the shuttle's cockpit. The first thing he noticed was the familiar stench of human waste. On the floor shoved to the side, out of the way from the ships controls was a dead man. He'd been a pilot by his uniform. Yadimin knelt by him as he check him over with his hand scanner. The body was cold. He'd been dead for a while. Probably longer than the shuttle had been on the Executor. His neck was totally crushed. It looked like the skin was the only thing keeping it attached. "This is way over my pay grade." He gowned to himself as he moved to the shuttle's comm station. He'd have to report this. He contacted the ships central security office. "This is technician Yadimin operating number 5899-716-AAG2. I'm in executive hanger bay one four and I've got a dead guy in an unsecured shuttle." As he listened to the shocked but still professional response from the junior security communications officer he thought to himself that at least he knew who'd parked the thing in the middle of the bay. This was definitely Darth Vader's shuttle.
Main Command Bridge, Star Dreadnought Executor, Fondor orbit, Fondor System, Tapani Sector.
Vader stared out at the great expanse of the Executor and the stars beyond from the forward central view port. He could sense a bundle of self importance and political machinations moving slowly towards the bridge. It had to be this Admiral Ozzel who had decided that his own personal aggrandizement was more important than getting the new center piece of the imperial fleet completed. He turned and let his long stride carry him to the watch commander. The officer turned to face him and snapped to attention. He gazed steadily at Vader's mask. His face showed little sign of the fear that Vader sensed from him. His chocolate colored was skin a rarity in the imperial navy, to have reached an assignment on the Executor with such a disadvantage was impressive. Vader made a note to watch him, if his skills matched the first impression he gave then he could be quite useful.
"Lord Vader, what are your orders?" His voice was that of a model of an imperial officer, perfectly controlled, and pitched in exactly the proper way.
Vader spoke, his voice seemed to fill even the massive space of the main bridge. "The last of our . . ." He paused to consider his words. "baggage has arrived. Get us underway immediately. Set your course for the Yavin system, best possible speed."
"At once sir!" The watch officer's response was crisp and intimidate. He turned from Vader and called out to the helm station. "Separate from the yard slip and break orbit. Prepare to receive hyperspace jump coordinates." Once again Vader was impressed by the shear competency displayed by the officer as he made his way down to the ships main astrogation station. Rather than blindly moving to jump the ship to lightspeed as soon as they were able, the watch officer was taking the time to figure out the quickest route ahead of time. Though such an action was not standard imperial doctrine, it could save minuets or hours of travel time. Vader reached briefly into the force and pulled his name and information about his personality from his mind. Good he was both ambitious and cautious. Vader also sensed that it would be easy to instill personal loyalty. All it would take would be some simple career advancement. Yes, he thought to himself, this one dose bear watching.
As Vader turned to leave the bridge he spoke to the interesting officer. "Captain Montrose, when admiral Ozzel arrives tell him to meet me in my quarters. He and I have much to . . ." Vader paused and then spoke the last word relish. ". . . discuss." Vader did not wait for Montrose's response as he left the command bridge.
Commander Aerospace Group Quarters, Rebel Base, Anzat, Anzat System, Mid Rim.
The Next Day
Luke Skywalker's mind wandered as he began packing his meager belongings into his duffel. Almost everything was standard Alliance equipment, the only exceptions being his medal for destroying the Death Star, and his father's lightsaber. Nothing had been salvageable from the farm, and he'd had to burn his only clothes from back home after his fifth attempt at getting rid of the smell from the garbage compactor. Sometimes he thought the smell was still sticking to him.
"Boy, let go of this trivial nonsense and focus your mind on the current moment. Worrying about smells and objects long gone will do nothing to help you on your way to greatness."
Luke blinked as he pulled his attention back to his packing. He idly noticed that Wedge seemed to be on his way to speak with him. "Master, what do you mean greatness? I know I've had day dreams of being some great hero or something, but I thought . . . I don't know. Shouldn't I be humble or something. Ben was living by himself out in the middle of the Jundland waists."
"Kenobi was in that hovel for two reasons, boy. First he was watching over you and shielding your presence from the empire, as I am doing for you now. Second I believe he was atoning for his part in the destruction of the Jedi. For it was your friend, Obi Wan Kenobi that taught Darth Vader the skills he used to slaughter the Jedi Knights. Such austerity is unnecessary. You need not hold yourself down to the level of the rest of the galaxy. You posses the power of the force, it grants you the ability to stride above lesser beings. What is that if not greatness?" Kun was surprised at his the strength of his student's reaction as he recoiled from the thought.
"But I don't want to 'stride above lesser beings.' Isn't that what the empire does? Try to control everything and everyone."
Behind his mental shields Exar Kun scrambled to find a way to cover for his misstep. This boy was turning out to be far more trouble to control than expected. "I suppose it is, in a way. Yet you strive to free the galaxy from tyranny. There are beings who love the empire as much as you hate it. To achieve your goals your rebellion must crush their dreams as totally as the imperials seek to crush yours. You personally, as a user of the force will eventually be moving directly against, not only the Sith Lords, Vader and the Emperor, but the Emperor's pets, I sense many such beings twisted under his command. Even Vader should be counted among them, despite being a Sith Lord himself."
Luke was stunned to hear what his master had said, the part about crushing imperial dreams made sense once he thought about it, but that even Darth Vader was a pet to the Emperor. It seemed impossible, yet he could sense the truth in the force. What kind of monster was the Emperor?
"Exactly. The Emperor is the most successful Sith Lord in many millennia. He rules the known galaxy. To defeat him you must raise yourself to also be able to change the course of the galaxy. To reverse it. To bring back freedom. But we must put off our discussion for now. Your subordinate is here."
At that moment the there was a knock on his door, and before he could open the door him self or call out, the door slid open and Wedge Antilies stuck his head into the room. "Hey boss, you done packing?"
Luke smiled at his friend. "Sure, just about. What do you need?"
Wedge stepped the rest of the way into Luke's room. "Not much, a party would be nice, and what do you know there's some big shot pilot who's heading out to become an even bigger big shot. There was talk about turning out half the base to see him off with style!"
Luke groaned as he saw the smile stretching across Wedge's face. "Half the base?" Luke asked in a voice that was more squeak than the tones that he'd become known for since leaving Tatooine.
Wedge walked over and clamped a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Don't worry Solo, the Princess, and I were able to talk them out of it. I know you hate that kind of thing."
Luke let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thanks, Wedge."
"At any rate, the three of us decided to have a little get together in your honor, we even requisitioned one of the conference rooms." Wedge said.
Luke blinked in confusion. "But I don't sense anyone in the conference rooms."
Wedge laughed a bit, used to Luke knowing things he couldn't know through the force. "Yeah, well first the fighter maintenance crew got wind of it somehow. Don't ask me how, I've got no idea. So they invited themselves, which of course twigged the rest of Rogue group so they invited themselves too. We were careful to make sure that only people that you've actually worked with would show up. Even then the conference room was to small so we've grabbed a table in the cafeteria. Everyone else should already be there."
Luke got up and slapped Wedge on the back. "Well what are we waiting for? I could eat a bantha I'm so hungry, and it'll be good to see everyone before I head out."
"Yes heading out is good." Wedge said with a grin as they headed to the party. "The sooner I get you moved out of here, the sooner I get your quarters. The sooner I get away from Hobbie's doom and gloom the better."